If you can't beat them
by Fissie
Summary: COMPLETED! A new guy, Gambit Remy has been recruited by Xavier. But who's the guy that is trying to kill him? And why? Does it have to do with the growing mutanthate? And couldn't the man have picked a subtler weapon? Want answers? Read the story.
1. Deal, play, blast everything away

Disclaimer: As I bath in money and everything I touch turns to gold, I have no need to make money out of these characters. Therefore, I have decided that Marvel should be allowed to own them. 

A/N Welcome to my story. Just so you know:

''Speech''

~Thoughts~

_emphasis_

Good, now that is settled: On with the show!

**If you can't beat them. **

_1. I entered into O'Mally's bar, I said O'Mally I have a thirst._

Fissie 

''Let me introduce a new student...''

He had stood in the shadows, which was actually quite weird since it was a pretty light room, but now was clearly visible. Everyone present (Kitty, Kurt, Scott, Wolverine and Storm) studied him. He wore ragged down shoes, torn trousers, a worn down brown trench coat lay beside him, he wore a black shirt and he had a face. ~Oh my God.~ was the general thought. Long messy auburn hair backed in a ponytail and a black bandana, hadn't shaven in three days (actually in eleven days, but it didn't look like that). And those eyes. Black on red, like a devil. He would have looked menacing if he hadn't been so incredibly gorgeous.

''...Gambit.''

''Is that your name?'' Scott asked with mild...no...make that hard skepticism. 

''It'll do.'' Gambit said dryly.

''Right and where exactly did they find you?'' Scott with just a little too much emphasis on the 'you'-bit.

Flashback 

~Files, check. Access-code, check. Boredom, check. Cards, uncheck. Solution, now.~

A young man sat in the most secure isolation chamber in the most secure prison in the U.S. (A/N don't ask me which one, I made it up, this is AU remember.). The guard that brought him there had vanished into thin air and non of the guards there has actually seen his face. There was a picture in his file and criminal record. Both these documents were soon to be no more. He got what he came for, now it was time to leave. After ten days in isolation, the big bang finale was near. 

''Guards?'' He spoke through the miniature hole in the door. The guards, who were playing poker, didn't react. 

''Guards? I just want to ask something. Come on.'' One of the guards approached.

''Whadaya want? I'm not even supposed to come this close.'' 

''Could I have some playing cards?'' 

''No.''

'' Please? I'm bored. Come on, what damage can cards possibly do?'' 

Four minutes of whining later, the guards gave him a pack of cards. Bad idea. But they didn't know that. They didn't know that the man in the isolation chamber was a mutant, because the file didn't say so and they had never seen him.

The prisoner had just finished his tenth game of solitaire. His internal clock said it was dark now. 

~Time to blow dis joint.~ 

A loud explosion rang through the entire building. Smoke was everywhere, prisoner was nowhere. Big Bang Finale a la Carte. Oh, he could have escaped without any one noticing, just like he had when he was gathering the necessary documents. But he couldn't, he wouldn't. His name was Gambit.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Cerebro went beserk.

''Mutant activity, location unknown...''

Xavier rushed in.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A young man strolled through the woods smiling to himself. He had just escaped maximum security prison nr. 1. They'd never find him, because he was never there. Nothing is left to prove that, except two rambling guards. He never liked the woods, he was more of a city boy, but it worked to hide things. He grabbed a green duffel bag, previously hidden by leafs and a fallen tree. He turned around to look at the burning building he just left. 

''Looking back, on the track, for a little green bag...''

He approached a cave, entered and uncovered his Harley (A/N Davidson, but you should know that.)

''Jump to the left, jump to the right. Lookin' upstairs, lookin' behind.'' He continued humming as opened the duffel bag and put on some new clothes. He took off on his bike and finally reached a bar. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''The activity burst was enormous, and I am certain we will hear more from it on the news, but I cannot pinpoint its location yet, which is very curious. It has left a significant trace leading to...well...here.'' Xavier pointed to the map. Wolverine looked at it in surprise. 

''_There_? And you need to recruit him?'' The professor nodded.

''Then I guess I'll make a visit to my old friend O'Mally.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''But I love him!'' The young man whined smiling just as Wolverine got in. 

''He be de only one f'me!''

''You're a liar, kid.'' O'Mally replied and continued cleaning some glasses.

''Non! I need him. Please get him f'me. I be a good boy.'' The younster looked at the bartender pleadingly. ~This is a weird conversation.~ Wolverine concluded. He decided to listen to it.

''I will do no such thing, kiddo.''

''Jack's de only one f'me, really.'' 

''Sure, now it's Jack, last time it was Johnny, what will it be next time?'' The barman smiled as the young man looked pleadingly. ''Alright, alright. I'll get it. But it's the last one.''

Wolverine was a bit confused as the young man turned to him.

''I can share if y'want some too. I'm real good at sharing.'' Wolverine was now a bit more than a bit confused, the young man was looking him straight in the eyes. Red on black eyes penetrated his own blue ones. He looked rather intimidating, with demon-eyes and a devil's smile. Then O'Mally came back. 

''Here you go, kid.'' He placed the bottle in front of him. ''It's my last one you drank the rest already. Why you are still standing is a mystery to me. Just don't come back for more until Friday, or go to a liquor store like normal people.'' 

Wolverine looked at the bottle. Jack Daniel. The young man saw him looking at it.

''It's paid for. Wan' some?'' He asked. 

''Sure.'' This was the guy the professor was after.

''So,'' Wolverine said continuing on the conversation. ''Johnny disappoint you?'' The young man smiled.

''Oui. Walker's a pain. At least Jack lets me use him without tryin' t'get even in de morning.''

Logan chuckled, internally, of course, the Wolverine does not chuckle.

''My name's Logan by the way.'' He reached out a hand

''Remy.'' He said and shook the hand presented to him. Logan raised an eyebrow and looked at him with unbelief.

''Non, really. Not Remy Martin. Just Remy, and dis is my best friend Jack. Say hi, Jack.'' He poured Logan some in.

''Right.''

''Fine. Y'got me. Just call me Gambit den. At least dat's not a drink.''

End Flashback 

''At O'Mally's Bar.''

The introduction continued as Xavier introduced all of his students to the new recruit. After this small introduction Kitty spoke.

''So, like, what are your powers.'' 

Gambit scanned Xavier's desk and took a pencil. It started to glow a reddish-pinkish glow. The professor interrupted.

''Gambit, maybe you should save this demonstration for the Danger Room. We will be going there shortly. Gambit charges objects bio-kinetically causing them to explode when released. He will be staying with us. Kurt, you will be his roommate. Perhaps you can show him around.'' Kurt nodded. ''Well it's getting late, have a good night sleep and tomorrow we'll have a introduction interview, and you can be introduced to everyone. That's the end of this meeting. Dismissed.'' 

They all left the office and went their separate ways to their rooms. Scott, however, waited for Gambit and Kurt outside the office.

''So, what exactly made you decide you'd join us. You don't really seem like the type for it.'' Gambit looked at him, penetrating his face with his eyes. It wasn't until he spoke that Scott realized how close his face was to his own.

''If y' can' beat dem, join em.'' He turned around to Kurt and they left, leaving a very disturbed Scott in the hallway.


	2. Don't judge me based on your ignorance

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Oh, really? Yes, really. I only own an old worn fishing gear set.

_2. Interview with a Cajun._

Fissie

_Later that evening in Xavier's study._

''Wolverine, what do you feel about this young man?''

''Well Chuck. The way I see it, the kid has some major issues.''

''Why would you say that?''

''When I found him he had drunk most of the stock of Jack Daniels that O'Mally owns. When we walked away, he didn't even stagger a bit. He's used to drinking large amounts of alcohol and he's, what?, 19, 20. That's not healthy...Remained me to hide my secret stash of liquor later on.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Meanwhile, elsewhere._

~Oh, look a secret stash of liquor, all f' me. What a nice welcoming gift. Dey shouldn't have. Really.~

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Back in the study._

''Another weird thing is that there was a Harley parked outside that had his smell all over it, but he never even came near it. We got home in the jeep. All the time he carried that green duffel bag like it got everything he owns.''

''So, what your saying is that I should be prepared for a strange young man.''

''I'm telling ya should be prepared for a strange, untrusting, loner young man. He looks like he's been through a lot. He names himself Gambit, for God's sake.''

''I see.''

''Oh, and aside of the drinking, he swears a lot, doesn't listen and he smokes.''

Wolverine walked out the study.

~Looks like we have another Wolverine on our hands.~ Xavier sighed mentally. This was not going to be easy.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Since it was Saturday evening when Gambit arrived at the mansion, they decided to wait until morning for the admission interview and sorts. The meeting would be at 10 in the morning on Sunday, a time Gambit had not known existed. 

So, at that ungodly hour, Kurt, who was very much of a morning person, waked Gambit. ~How does he get s' cheerful in de mornin'?~ 

''Did you not sleep vell tonight? You don't look so good.'' 

''Sure I did, jus' ain't much of a mornin' person, me.'' ~Plus, I've been to town to finish de job. Oh, an' I've been checking your personal files.~ He though of those files. ~Dieu, de people here have problems. Serious issues. Mornin' happiness bein' one. Mornin' trainin' sessions bein' two. ~

He got up, showered, got dressed and wandered to the office, slowly, taking time to examine all the aspects of the estate. 

*-*-*-*-*-*

Scott was already present in the study, complaining about their newest recruit. 

''That's what he said! If you can't beat them, join them! What is that supposed to mean?''

''Well, I've explained him a bit about us last night. About our enemies, the Brotherhood and Magneto. I suppose he was just joking. Do not take it too serious.''

''Yeah, sure, whatever. I don't trust him.'' An angry Scott walked out of the office realizing he was not going to be able to reason with Xavier. ~That man would allow Sabertooth to our school if he promised to behave! It's beyond naive to just allow a guy out of a pub to our school. How did he find him anyway?~. He stormed past Gambit, who was on his way in. Glares were exchanged. 

''An' ain't it a beau mornin', cher?'' He smirked.

''Get lost.''

Gambit stepped inside the study.

'' 'Ello, Prof.''

''Good morning, Gambit. I trust you slept well.'' Gambit nodded.

''Have you heard the news this morning.'' Gambit shook his head.

''They mentioned an explosion at the N.Y. prison. This was at the exact moment Cerebro found a high mutant activity in that general area. Would I be correct to presume you were the cause of the explosion? And may I ask what you were doing there?''

''Sure.'' 

Ten seconds of silence followed.

''Well, what were you doing there?'' The professor tried not to loose his patience.

~Stealing files...Dat ain' a good answer.~ Gambit realized he had to lie now. Obviously the truth would not do. Luckely, telepaths couldn't sense if he was lying, he found this out a long time ago. Wolverine (as he had read in the files) was the only one who could smell it when he lied, and he wasn't there. Lying was a good option.

''Dere was a fight dere. I got involved. A charged stone flung to de wrong direction. Boom. Not like anyone escaped. Should I have left a sorry-note?''

''...'' The proffesor knew he was hiding something, the story was a bit absurd. But since he couldn't pinpoint it and a lot of absurd things happen to mutants he decided to let it go. 

''I think it's time to fill in your file, so we know a bit more about you. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?''

'' S'long as y' don' expect any schoolbook answers.'' The professor gave him a disturbed look. ~This might prove to be more difficult than I thought. Wolverine was right. A loner, an untrusting young man.~

'' Yes, well, we'll start than. Your name...''

''Gambit.''

''No, I mean your real name.''

~I told Wolverine, might as well tell Xavier as well.~ ''Remy.''

''And your last name?''

"Remy's de first, last an' only.'' ~De less dey know, de less dey find out.~

''Alright. Age?''

''Depends.''

''Depends? On what?'' 

~What I.D. y're checking.~ ''On who y' ask. Generally, I be 20.''

''Than you are too old to enroll in Bayville High. Have you had prior education?''

~Typical, y'talk wid an accent, dey t'ink y'never went t'school...Wait, dat's true, I never went to school...Just...Merde, how do I put dis?...~ 

''Private ed., sort of.''

''That's nice. In what courses did you excel?'' 

~Oh, just your basic thievery, stealth, impersonations, jewel- and painting-theft, lying, dueling, hacking...De everyday essentials of a Master Thief.~ 

''Art an' history.''

''Oh, good. Maybe you could continue studying here. Art History, for example. I could provide the funds. Maybe you'll think about it?''

''Maybe.'' ~Maybe not...Probably not...Definitely not...~

''Let's continue with the list, shall we. I take it you are from Louisiana. New Orleans?''

''Born an' bred.'' ~An' exiled.~

''Is there any family we should inform on your stay here?''

''Non.'' ~If dey care, dey'll find out. If dey don't care...dey probably don't care...~ 

''I would like to know more about your mutancy, aside of the obvious bio-kinetic powers. Did you know you are invisible to telepaths.''

''Oui.''

''How do you do it? What source is behind it? I sense no telepathy from you.''

''I don' know. It just is.'' ~He can't sense empathy. It's gotta be a different wave length or somethin'. Dat's good. Dat's very good.~ 

''Another question regarding your mutancy, your eyes. Do you experience different vision?''

''M'eyes? I suppose I see better in de dark.'' ~Not to mention I see infra-red. Oh, an' I can' stand bright light...*internal sigh*...Gotta stop makin' myself feel like Gizmo.~

''Would you require an image inducer to cover them up?''

''Non. I have shades.'' ~Bright light! Bright light!...Merde, I scare me.~

''I see. Well, that's the end of the list.'' ~There aren't any questions left here that you would or could answer.~ 

''Hank McCoy would like to give you a physical exam...'' The word 'exam' had not been pronounced when Remy interrupted. 

''Non, merci. I be fine. Healthy as can be.''

''Yes, I know, but all students...''

''I be fine. No need for no physical.'' His eyes started to glow with anger. A reddish, devilish glow. He turned the little control he had over the you-do-whatever-I-want-side of his empathy to the max. ~I don't need no physical. Ain't goin' near no lab unless it be in a body bag.~

''Alright, I suppose it can wait.'' ~Merci Dieu. Empathy 1, Telepathy 0.~

''Before I forget. You will have a Danger Room session this afternoon. Don't be too alarmed, it won't be too hard. It's more an assessment of your capabilities and, of course, a demonstration of your powers to the rest of the students. After that we could introduce you properly to them.''

''Fine wid me, Prof.''

''Well, any other questions I should come up with I will ask then. Now, for some rules we have around here.'' ~Merde, rules? Dis is startin' to become de Sound o' Music more an' more.~ 

''Curfew is 11 o'clock for senior students.'' The professor continued. ''Weekends are more or less free. Training sessions are random and everyone summoned is required to attend. We don't allow smoking, drinking, swearing or anything like that at this mansion. Now, do you have any questions?''

''Oui. Why do y' boder livin'?''

''Excuse me?''

''You take away all fun. What's de point den?''

''De...the fun?'' Xavier was a bit baffled. 

''De fun. Smokin', drinkin', swearin', , livin' in de night.'' ~Stealin', gamblin', cheatin' an' de list of fun continues...~

''Well, we have other means of 'fun'.''

''Such as?''

''Well……….'' While the professor thought about it, Gambit lifted an arm and reached to an invisible make-believe shelf. He took an invisible make-believe book, opened it and started to search in it. 

''Ah, here. Boredom. State o' mind in which...Hey look it's got y'r picture's right 'ere.''

The professor got a bit annoyed by this attitude.

''You do know that you're free to leave if you want at any time.''

~An' where would I go?~ ''Oui. But I think I can manage.'' ~I'm tired o' de free lance business, anyway. Jus' reminds me more dat I don' belong anywhere. Dis might be a nice change for once. If only...~

''Are you alright?'' Xavier saw Remy's face become grimmer, sadder even.

~Merde. Poker-face must be slipping...Say something, change de subject~ ''I heard it was y' birthday tomorrow.''

''Yes, and like every year I will take all my students out to dinner. You are naturally invited.''

''I ain't got no gift for y'. An' y'r bein' very kind t'me. So let me make it up to y'. Let me take y'all out dis time.'' 

''Oh no, really. It will be fine. You don't have to...''

''Non. Really. I take you out. No problem. 'S de least I can do, non?. Jus' tell everyone to dress posh, and tomorrow night dinner's on me.''

~Does he relize taking out so many students is not a cheap thing to do. How on earth is this child going to pay for it?~

Remy could almost hear Xavier's thoughts.

''Is a nice place, an' I know de owners. Dey won't charge me much if I explain dem why we're dere. Oh, an' leave de stupid image inducers at home. Don' need 'em where we're goin.''

''Well, in that case, thank you, I suppose.'' 

''Hey, y' know what dey say. If you can' beat dem, ask em out to dinner.''

On next: Will there really be a posh dinner? Or will it be take away McDonalds?


	3. The bigger they are, the harder they hit

Disclaimer: Well, surprise, surprise, I still don't own them. But don't worry, I'm working on it.

Ima Super Mute Ant (love the name) thanx.

Valleyprincess Romy? Hmmmm. Maybe. I don't know, I haven't thought of it yet (it's rambling, remember.), but, yeah, most likely I'll give in…*sigh*. 

Ishandahalf: Thank you, but I do prefer warm beans for dinner.

The Rogue Witch: What the @$%!* does XD mean? Call me visually challenged, but I just don't see it.

A.M.bookworm247 Of course Remy's a fav! He's Remy, duh.

s.o.s.rogue I am immune to puppy dog eyes. Ha-ha. Okay, maybe not. So here's the update. 

Anime addicted He thinks weird things, because everyone does. ~I do, you do, we all do-do-do~ See?.

A/N Why is it Romy and not Regue? Why do I bother with authors notes, if they're ridiculous and useless? Ah, and so the mind ponders…Here's a chappie for you.

3. Intro's and War zones 

Fissie

''I be back dis afternoon. Gon' get some t'ings I forgot t'pack.''

''Need a ride?''

''Non, merci. I'll walk. I need de keys dough.'' ~Non, I don', but let's just pretend.~ 

''Session starts at three, bub.'' Wolverine handed him his keys.

'' I be right back, don' y' worry, cher. I wouldn' miss it fo' de world.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Rec. Room, Sunday 14.00 

Everyone was there, with the exception of Wolverine, when Gambit entered. ~Dis don't look like de bathroom t'me.~

''Hi there. Like, come in, we don't bite.'' Remy stepped into the giant room and categorized. A pool table, a huge plasma screen television, a Playstation 2, an X-box, a Gamecube, an impressive surround sound system, four security cameras. ~Definitely not de bathroom.~ 

''You're early for your first training session. But now you're here, maybe we could introduce ourselves.''

''Bring it on, mon ami.'' ~Okay, lemme see. Startin' at de left. Brown hair, young, dat's...what's her name, de phase-girl, Kitty. Blue, taily guy, de German, my roomy. Kurt Wagner, Nightcrawler. Next, Red head, nice, a spook, Jean. Guy with stick up his ass, Scott, code name Cyclops, sittin' very close t' Jean. Does m' cher Scotty have an eye on her? He do. Dis is gon' be fun. Okay, next, white hair, brown skin, Or...Ore...Orr...Storm. An' dat's gotta be her nephew den, Evan, Spikey. Big blue an' hairy, Dr. Hank McCoy, Beast. White streak, gothy-punky appearance, way too much makeup, Rogue.~

'' Good. First of all, this is Kitty, code name Shadowcat.'' Remy walked up to her and kissed her hand. She blushed, of course.

''Hi. I'm Kitty, they call me Shadowcat''

''I got dat, petit.''

''Oh, yeah, *nervous giggle* I, like, phase through, well everything. '' ~De phase-girl, one point f' Remy.~

''And this is Kurt, code name Nightcrawler.'' ~Two points. But dis was a giveaway.~

''Hi, vell we've been introduced already, right?''

''Sleepin' in one room together do count as bein' introduced, non?''

''This is Scott code name Cyclops.'' Scott gave him a formal hand. ~Name remembered correctly, one point. Stick placed correctly, bonus hit. Total score, t'ree points an' a bonus hit.~

''Scott cannot control his powers, which is why he wears ruby-quartz glasses. A demonstration would be dangerous here, but it suffices to say he can fire laser (?) beams from his eyes.'' Scott didn't look too happy about this confession made by the professor about his powers.

''This is Jean Grey.'' ~I'm good at dis. Four points.~ Remy kissed her hand, of course. Jean's face turned a brightly shade of red, while Scott's face turned a contrasting shade of pale. ~Four eyes has definitely got an eye f' her, or four eyes, non? So den, let de games begin.~

''Nice t'meet y', ma chere.'' Jean giggled in an unusual way. Everyone would have sworn they heard her make a snorting sound. She, of course, would deny it high and low.

''Hi, I...I...em...I'm a telepath and have telekinetic powers.''

''Dat's nice, chere.'' She giggled some more. Even Xavier was disturbed with it, so he decided to continue quickly.

''This is Ororo Munroe, or Storm as we call her. She's one of the instructors here.'' ~Five.~

''Bonjour, ma belle.'' 

''My _name_ is Ororo, but everyone here calls me 'Ro. You may call me that or Storm.''

''O'course, Stormy.'' Storm, tried to remain calm.

''I control the weather, my dear young Cajun, so if I were you I would watch my mouth, unless you want lightning to strike you. Do not call me Stormy.'' She stayed calm, but it only made her look more menacing. 

''Alright den.'' Remy simply smirked. 

''Let's continue, shall we. This is Evan.'' ~Six. An' countin'.~

''Yo. They call me Spike, cos that's what I do.'' He snapped his fingers and while doing so, bony spikes shot out of his hands and in to the couch. Xavier looked at him strictly. 

''Powers are not for play. Try and remember that, Evan.'' He sighed and went on. ''This is Dr. Hank McCoy.'' ~Seven.~ Remy shook McCoy's hand.

''Call me Beast, everyone else does. I don't really mind. I'm the local doctor annex researcher. I do believe you have an appointment with my lab, my young friend.''

''Anoder time it shall be, monsieur Bête.'' Remy made a small polite bow.

''And finally, this is Rogue.'' He reached out to her hand to kiss it, but she pulled away.

''Don' even think about it Swamp Rat. Ah ain't falling for it.'' Remy merely grinned. ~A Southern Belle, ney? Or should I say a Mississippi River Rat? Anyway, dats eight point plus one very important bonus hit. What I win?~

''Yes, well, that's about raps up the introduction. We will now continue with your first Danger Room session. Wolverine is already there, I believe. I will inform you about his abilities on our way there.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The Danger Room, Sunday 15.00 

The whole team stood in the control room. They could see the Cajun standing in the huge Danger Room, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one foot on the floor. His ever-present trench coat, present. Wolverine decided that this attitude called for serious measures. Normally, new students started out at the first level.

''Let's start him at a level three.'' Xavier wanted to complain but Wolverine had already pushed the buttons and below, surrounding Gambit a scenery began to form. It was a city, Remy did not recognize it, though. ~Looks nice. Didn' expect anything like dis t' happen, but it's nice.~

Out of the mists appeared a figure all students recognized as Sabertooth.

They could see Remy looked startled. Wolverine could have sworn he heard him mutter 'Sabertooth' under his breath as he took on a defensive stance. 

Sabertooth began his level 3 attack and stampeded towards his prey. Gambit quickly dodged his attack and flung three highly, and I mean highly-highly, charged cards at him. At the impact, Sabertooth flung to the wall and pounded on to the floor, groaning and panting his last breaths. It was over, before it even really started.

''Level completed.'' A computer voice said. In the control room surprised faces and dropped jaws glanced down to the Cajun. Everyone spoke at once.

''Like, what just happened?''

''Vat vas dat?''

''Swamp Rat's got style.'' 

''Show off.''

''That was cool, man!''

''Wow.''

''Oh, my stars and gathers. How remarkable.''

Down below, a grinning Gambit looked up. ~I showed dem right.~

''Guess it not be a very realistic simulation, ney?'' Gambit said matter-of-factly while he pointed out to the dead body. 

''Well, we normally start with an easy level for new arrivals...'' Xavier started a bit startled when Wolverine interrupted.

''But since you've been here a day and ain't new anymore...'' He stomped out of the control room. 

''I can' hear y', mon ami.''

Suddenly, Wolverine showed up behind him.

''You, me, no mutant powers, bub.'' He said, while rolling up his sleeves. (He wasn't wearing his uniform, no one was.)

''Ah, but dat's no fair, cher, y' can' control dat healin' y'got.''

''Fine, rules are this. You pin me to the ground, you win. I pin you to the ground, you're dead. No holding back.''

''I like dem odds. You're on, cher.''

''Than let's start, Gumbo.''

And so, the fight started. There was a lot of dodging, kicking, beating and missing. Imagine a Batman scene, with a lot of 'Bang's, 'Oof's, 'Kapow's, 'Slam's and 'Dodge's. Yes, this is a pathetic excuse to not write a fighting scene. I hope it worked. 

Suddenly Remy found his hands were behind his back in a tight grip. Wolverine grinned. 

''Don't ever call me cher again, bub. So, what's ya gonna do now, Cajun?'' He was ready to twist his arm a bit further. But then Remy spoke. 

''Don' y' know what dey say, mon ami? If y' can' beat dem, kick dem.'' He twisted his body, in a way no one should be able to do and kicked Wolverine in the side. 

The fight continued. After some more savage skirmishing, Wolverine was the one caught in a somewhat unpleasantly position. But it's not like Wolverine to give up. So he launched himself out of it and took a shot at Gambit with his fist, in which three claws now were present. Gambit barely dodged the unexpected attack, somersaulted backwards and nearly fell out of balance. 

''Hey! No fair!'' He shouted. Remy hated cheats. Cheats other than him, of course.

''Oh, did Chuck forget to mention? Retractable claws are not part of my mutant powers, so I get to use them.'' 

''Fine'' Remy retorted "But den I can use dis.'' He reached into an inner pocket and took out a small wand that turned into a full-size bo-staff when he twirled it around.

''Won't do you much good, kid. These are made of adamantium. Nothing against it except adamantium.'' Having said that, Wolverine charged. His claws collided with the bo-staff, but astonishingly they didn't cut though like butter, as a matter of fact they didn't even scratch it. With a simple movement, Remy pushed Wolverine away, sending him to fall backwards.

''I always did wonder what dis was made of. Now I know.''

Now it was Remy's turn to charge, which he did. A quick succession of movements surprised Wolverine. After ten more minutes, the battle was over. Wolverine was pinned to the ground with the end of the bo-staff stuck tightly on his throat.

''Bang, you dead.''

On next: Will Remy survive Wolverine's defeat? Will I ever learn to do something useful? Will there be a plot? No, but there will be a dinner.

A/N I had to post it now, but maybe I'll rewrite it later on. But look, it has some sort of order.


	4. It's just a flesh wound

Disclaimer: If I owned them, would I be writing about them so pathetically? Probably yes. But that's beside the point. I don't own them.

Crim Lady Remy uses chere and cher so much to piss everyone off and seeing how far he can go. Gradually they will turn into homme's and mon ami's. I spelled Rogue wrong because apparently I'm a latent dyslexic and I really didn't see it. I've corrected it now, so thanx.

Romyrover It was a rhetorical question. Do you know what that is? Anyway, hop on the train and see the sights. There will be Romy somewhere, I can feel it.

Isandahalf wow, a gold…a real gold star? Oh, look at it shine.

A.M.bookworm247 (Does the internet count as a book, then? Cool, that mean's I'm being cultural!) Oh, no, not at all, my dear. He's pissed with capital Pee *grin* Oh well, that's life for ya. Yes for you, not for me, I'm still fishing.

Lyranfan I suck at details generally, I mean, have you seen any detailed description of clothing, scenery or anything? My lame excuse is that I just like to stimulate your own imagination. In reality, I suck word-finding. And as for Ororo, I just like it when she bashes Remy about a bit, you know, put him in place. But she pays a prize for it, you know. The prize of being called Stormy. *sigh*

s.o.s.rogue Batman is probably immune to puppy-dog eyes, because Batman's a bat-like guy and bats are blind.

Ima Super Mute Ant Someone with a name so original as Fissie has reasons to like other people's names that have more imagination going on. One update coming up.

A/N This is a very short chapter, because the time for the Grand Dinner is almost there and I don't know what to put in and leave out. Besides I like to end my chapter's consistently, you know, with the whole if-you-can't-beat-them-thing I've got going, because that's the title and the title deserves to be listened to. (Except last chapter, but I just had to do the 'bang, you're dead thing', it's so…comic-like.)

_4. And now for something completely different... _

Fissie

The control-room was quieter than a church on Monday. The new kid, had beaten their feral instructor. He had just signed his doom. 

Down in the battle zone Gambit retracted his bo-staff and in one clean movement swung in into a pocket. Then he reached out a hand to help lift Wolverine. Wolverine however, pushed him aside as he stood up with little effort and stomped out of the room. This was not such a bad thing, had it not been for the fact that the door was still closed and Wolverine couldn't find the calm-hand patience required for waiting for the door to open. Six claws found their way through the metal door, leaving it to rest in pieces. 

''If y'r goin' t' y'r secret hidin' place, y' won' find Jack dere anymore!'' Before the word anymore was fully pronounced, Wolverine's voice was heard in outrage as he stormed back in outrage

''WHAT?! You...'' More words were unnecessary, claws proved the point quite well. 

The fight was on again. But this time Gambit had to use his charged cards to shake off the almost feral Wolverine. Had to, yes, without them he would have long lost. Gambit was swift, fast and cunning, but Wolverine's brute force made it difficult to dodge every attack. And the attack kept coming. Wolverine's healing factor kept him from getting tired. Gambit, however, had no such luck and after twenty more exhausting minutes of utter war, he was beaten. His coat was thrown somewhere in a far corner of the room, his shirt was almost entirely ripped off. 

~What a body...Whoa, hold it right there, what did Ah just think? Ah did not think that. What was Ah thinking? Like I could ever touch him. Not that Ah would want that, anyway he's just an arrogant Swamp-boy with a great body. Damn, there Ah go again. Stupid.~ 

Meanwhile, Gambit was pinned to the wall, too tired to move. Wolverine's fist found its way to Gambit's face. He expected a full blow to the jaw, but instead Wolverine's fist simply placed itself under his chin. Two claws extended, one on each side of his face. The third claw extended just a little bit.

''Give me one reason not to make Cajun shish kebab out of your pretty face right now.'' Gambit gulped. Not even charm could help him out of his.

''Because, I buy y' a new bottle?''

''That's a fact, bub, not a reason.''

''Because, I be real good and never do it again?''

''That's another fact.'' The third claw extended just a bit more, touching his chin only very slightly. Gambit had to think fast.

''Because, I'm just a lowlife swamp rat unworthy to soil y'r claws and y'r gon' be very forgiving an' not slice an' dice me on de condition I never ever touch y'r stash ever again?''

''Exactly.'' He grinned. After releasing the Cajun he left the room for the second time. 

Gambit rubbed his chin. ~Dis is gon' hurt in de mornin'.~ 

He touched his blooded arm. ~Dis is gon' hurt in de mornin'.~

He stood up. ~Dis is definitely gon' hurt in de mornin'. Maybe I shouldn' wake up tomorrow at all.~

He started walking. ~Dis is hurtin' right now. Merde, I think I sprained my ankle.~

He wanted to walk out the room, but a certain big blue doctor was standing in the debris of the doorway. 

''Where do you think you're going, my beaten Acadian friend.''

''Shower.'' He pointed to the left, where the elevator to the ground floor was.

''I believe you will be going to my lab.'' Hank pointed to the opposite direction.

''Non, merci. I be fine.'' Remy started walking towards the elevator, when an enormous blue hand caught his blooded arm. Remy flinched.

''I do not believe a blooded arm and a sprained ankle are seen as 'fine'. Come with me my friend, we will have you up and away in no time.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

''Seat yourself one that bed, please.'' Hank examined the wound on his left arm. He cleaned and bandaged the cut.

''It's not very deep, luckily. It won't leave a scar. Let's take a look at your ankle, shall we?'' He took off Gambit's shoe and started to move his foot, upward, downward, to the left, to the right. Remy flinched.

''Yes, I see. It's only mildly bruised. Just don't run and jump around too much the coming days. It will be fine.'' Hank smiled and looked up to the Cajun, who was still not at all amused of being in the lab.

''Great. Can I go now den?''

''Of course. Just be...'' Remy left the room with the speed of light. ''...Careful.'' Hank sighed. ''Youngsters.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy decided to go to the kitchen first of all and make himself a simple sandwich. Simple, because he didn't want to stuff himself and miss out on dinner tonight. He heard someone following him, so, he turned around to meet his stalker.

''I is just goin' t'de kitchen, no need t'...'' he started ''Oh, it's you, chere, _you_ can follow Gambit anytime.'' He said with a silky voice. Rogue was not distracted by it, she stood still, with her hands on her side.

''Ah ain't following you, Swampy. Just on my way to get something to drink.'' 

''Den let me accompany y', chere.'' He reached out an arm.

''I can walk, thank you very much.'' 

They walked to the kitchen in silence.

~Is she angry at me? I jus' bein' polite, dat's all. Okay, maybe not jus' polite, but...hey...is she walking slower?~

~Why does he insist on walking near me? If Ah walk any slower Ah'll be walking backwards.~

~She don' want m' near her. Why? Her powers? But she's all covered up. Too bad she is too, dere's gotta be a nice lookin' girl in dere somewhere, underneath all de clothin' an' makeup.~

~Why does this arrogant jerk have to be so incredibly cute? No, Ah can't think that way. Ah can't.~

~She walkin' slower again, maybe I should let it go f'r now. 'F she don' wan' come close, I just walk a little faster.~

~Good, he's picking up the pace. Finally.~

They reached the kitchen. 

The simple, mountain-high, and I might add vegetarian, sandwich was almost finished. All it needed was the yellow chilly pepper he was now chopping. 

''Y'sure y' don' wan' some too, chere.''

''Ah'm sure, Ah ain't eating anything that has twenty different spices and chilly peppers in it.''

''Y' don' know what y'r missin', chere.'' He continued chopping.

At that exact moment in time Xavier rolled (can anyone think of a better way of putting it?) in. Remy politely nodded at him and smiled.

In this tiny loss of concentration, the knife, meant to cut the chilly pepper and only the chilly pepper, suddenly found it's way to Remy's finger. He screamed in agony. Rogue found it hard not to laugh.

''Fuckin' hell! Damned...'' He began to yell. The professor looked at him angrily. It took Remy one glance in his direction to understand what he meant. Still in pain he tried correcting his words. 

''Fuck.'' The professor shook his head. The finger was bleeding like mad, so Remy took a tissue to dampen the bleeding a bit. Rogue had given up trying not to laugh and ran out of the kitchen to catch her breath.

''Merde?'' Still the professor shook his head.

''Shit?'' Still he shook his head. Remy threw his hand up in the air in despair.

''Oh, man for cryin' out loud! What _can_ I say 'round here? Oops?'' The professor nodded. Remy sighed in defeat.

''Oops...'' Satisfied the professor smiled. 

''Bah, ain't hungy no more.'' He left the sandwhich on the counter. 

''Gon' shower now, be ready at seven.'' Angrily, he turned around and walked out of the kitchen. Xavier could barely hear the rambling of French-Cajun-English curses that came from his mouth. Barely.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_ Somewhere in an alley in New York _

The beggar sat down, this was his alley. It was late and he needed some sleep, so he took a newspaper, opened it and lay on it. He had drank enough booze to get Rohde island drunk, so he was warm and ready to sleep. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man smashed against a wall in _his_ alley. 

''Hey! Whadoyathinkyardoingstupid!'' he muttered slowly and barely understandable, since words were impossible to form in his current state of being. The beggar stood up and staggered toward the newly arrived man. 

''Get out of my way.'' The figure said. 

''Makeme.'' The beggar blurted out. Suddenly, he realized that this unknown man was quite taller than him and twice as broad.

With barely an effort the man pushed the beggar aside. The stranger looked around.

''Where am I?''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Xavier's Mansion, 19:10 _

They stood waiting in the hallway. All had dressed up in their most poshy outfits. This meant tuxes for the men and nice dresses for the women. Jean wore a red gown, Kitty something too pink and petticoat but nice in it's own freakish way, Storm wore a beautiful white evening dress. Even Rogue had put some effort in looking nice. She wore a dress, a stunning green long-sleeved medieval gown. She hadn't put on so much makeup. Neither Hank or Kurt wore their image inducers. 

Why they were this dressed up like this, was still a mystery to them. Rogue was starting to get annoyed. ~He said seven o'clock. What place is he going to take us, anyway? It better be good, or Swamp Rat's gonna ...~ Then she saw Gambit standing at the top of the stairs. ~Oh my God, he's gorgeous...wait, Ah didn't think that.~ 

The rest of the people present were equally stunned. A totally different person was standing on top of the stairs. He wore an Armani suit and Valentino shoes. He had shaven and his hair was tied in a neat tail. He was beautiful, for lack of a better word. Walking down the stairs, he was elegance himself, striding almost like a cat. He smiled at all the dressed up people in the hallway. Then he spotted Rogue. ~I was wrong. Dere's no nice lookin' girl underneath all de makeup an' clothin'. She's stunning.~ He reached the last steps of the stairs.

''Woah, like, you!'' Kitty was the first one to speak to the totally different looking Cajun. ''Who are you and what have you done to Gambit?''

''Gambit's chopped up in bite-size pieces and stored in de fridge, ma amie. Dis be Damien Black.'' Remy replied smiling.

Silence followed, with estranged faces to match.

''What? Ain't dat de saying? If y' can' beat dem, eat dem. Don' wan' be late, let's go.'' He walked to the door and turned around once more.

''You comin', or you stayin' starin' like idiots?'' He shook his head, smiled a ravishing smile, put on his worn trench coat and left.

A/N Look it's got a plot-in-process. And Rouge is realizing that Remy's hot. 

On next: the dinner. Finally. And more plot of course. And maybe some Romy, too. But all of this only if you review, so…


	5. Wining and dining and whining

Disclaimer: I probably don't need to say it every time, but just to be on the save side: I own them. I mean I don't own them. Phew, almost caught me there.

A/N This is the second time I post this. Bella's name is Boudreaux and not Devereaux. How I even thought of that name is a bit of a mystery to me. Let's just say I'm a poet and an artist and I use my right of free mumbo-jumboing. Anyway, I've corrected it now.

A.M.bookworm247 spits out a cotton ball Yuk. Cotton balls are not all they're cracked up to be. I never meant this to be a Romy story, but since the Romy-groupie wagon is getting pretty stuffed (not to mention now with all the cotton balls and fluff), I will sort of try and get it started. However, do not expect Romance with capital R. I'm not a romaniac.

Ishandahalf Damn you, with golden stars. I cannot resist....too powerfull...I must...so shiny...can't resist....help...me... You got me. I'll try some more Romy sigh

Anime addicted Amusing?! Amusing?! I go for totally hilarious or nothing at all! Oh, sorry, that was me pretending to be fishing. This is the real me again. Thank you, hope you like this one too.

Shrianai Seito Whaaaaaa! jumps up and hides behind large crates......pops out head, very, very carfully Did you just insult me and throw poisened darts at me?

A/N Grand Dinner is on, finally.

5. Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name 

Fissie

''Damien, who?'' Ororo asked.

''Damien Black, fittin' non?'' He smiled at her.

''Who's Damien Black?'' Xavier asked.

''Me.'' He frowned his eyebrows a bit, pretending he didn't understand what all the questioning was all about.

''I thought you're name was Remy.'' Xavier retorted.

''It is. An' y' remembered, how nice. I feel loved.'' Remy said sarcastically.

''If Remy's your name, why call yourself differently?'' Xavier said a bit more seriously, mildly irritated about the Cajun's behavior.

''Y' wan' dinner?'' It was more a statement than a question.

''Yes.'' Xavier was becoming increasingly confused.

''Den call me Damien Black tonight.'' Satisfied of the answer he gave, he put on some shades.

They reached the garage. Scott and Storm took out two cars. Logan grabbed his bike and spotted a Harley in the other corner. A old beauty. Black with hints of red, expensive leather, custom-made handles. Must have cost a fortune. Than it hit his mind, this bike was not the bike he saw standing outside O'Mally's. The one he could have sworn was Remy's, since it had his scent all over it.

''That bike yours?'' Remy was a bit startled by the question, but he didn't let it notice.

Can' lie t'him, he'd smell it. ''Course.'' He said nonchalantly. It is now, anyway.

''Don't look like the bike you used to go to O'Mally's.''

Merde. ''Wha' y' mean?'' How'd he know what bike I used t'get t' O'Mally's? Logan sniffed. Oh, right. It's de Wolverine we be talkin' 'bout. Nevermind, den.

''That bike is a different bike, bub.'' He said, pointing at it with an extended claw, making his point very clear.

''Oui, but dis is my bike, de one at O'Mally's was borrowed.'' Good. Dat ain' a complete lie.

''Oh, really? Borrowed with consent?''

''I left a note.'' Dat's true. It was true, the note read: Roses are red, Violets are blue, you took my heart, I took your bike. The Hell's Angel biker was not amused when he read the note. Remy smirked internally at the thought.

Quickly he added

''Follow me.'' To stop Logan from asking any more questions that would result in a gutted Remy.

------

Two cars and two bikes pulled over to the restaurant. The women were trying to get out of the cars, without getting their clothing wrinkled. Meanwhile, the men looked up to the restaurant they stood in front of. The entrance was placed above a few (but just too many) steps. Too much gold colored candles and window frames and too much red colored carpet. 'Restaurant La Boheme' it was called. And it looked more expensive than the Ritz could ever hope to be.

''Yeah, right. Like we're ever going to be allowed in there.'' Kitty said sardonically. She had already gotten out of the car, because her dress was supposed to be wrinkled, as stated by the latest fashion rules.

''No worry, petit. I know de owners.'' Remy said.

''You know the owners of this place? Man, talk about friends in high places.''

Remy turned around, smiling at the little joke.

''Dese are friends o' de fam'ly. We always come 'ere when we're in town.''

Logan sensitive ears could hear the muttered sounds of French ambience music. It was definitely a French restaurant. He just hoped they had some decent beer. Logan was not a wine drinker.

He spotted two waiters at the top of the stairs as they looked down passed Logan, to Remy. They looked a bit startled, and one of the two rushed in. Odd behaviour. Oh, wait, Frenchmen. That explains.

Five full minutes later, after all the women had gotten out of the cars, and as they started to climb the steps to the front of the restaurant, the French ambience music was suddenly gone. A second later, Logan could hear the distinct sound of jazz coming from the restaurant.

As they reached the top of the stairs, there was a ramp on the side to lead the professor up too, the maître greeted Remy.

''Monsieur, how nice to have you here again.'' He shook his hand. The distinct French accent was very audible. (A/N not very writable, though. I mean how do you write a rolling r? Sorry for that.)

''Nice t'be here, mon ami.''

''Do come in, please.''

The place was huge, and richly decorated.

''Would you require the separate room?''

''Oui, f'r ten. We're here t'celebrate mon ami's birt'day.'' He pointed at Xavier.

''Very well, this way please. And congratulations, monsieur.'' Xavier thanked.

''The room is not ready yet, so if you will please wait the foyer.'' He snapped his fingers and five waiters took the coats of the new arrivals.

''The foyer is this way please.''

The place was wonderful, but still Kurt and Beast were a little nervous. The restaurant was quite full. They weren't used to go out without their image inducers and they felt looked at. Not entirely without reason.

A few gentlemen who sat at a table across the room were gazing at them. They stared at them with shock and disgust at first, seeing two blue furry creatures in tuxedo's. Mutie scum, they thought, their disgust plainly distinguishable on their faces. But that look disappeared the minute they saw a tall, lean, auburn haired man standing next to the two mutants.

Oh no. They were here with him. Shock and disgust were replaced by worry and utter terror. They could see him say something to them. He must have seen them looking at the two mutants. They gulped, hoping for the better, but fearing the worst.

''Zey are looking at us.'' Kurt said sadly as his heart sank. Once again, his image scared and disgusted people. Hank didn't look very happy either. Remy appeared next to them.

''Don't worry, mon ami. You g' on ahead, I talk to dem.'' Remy guided Hank and Kurt through the doors to the separate room. Then he turned around to meet the gentlemen's gazes. An almost angelical smile shone on his face, his head slightly bowed to the side. Elegantly he walked towards the men.

''Bonjour, mes amis.'' He placed his hands on the table with a little bit more noise than absolutely necessary and leaned forward a bit.

''What you say we have a li'l chat, ney?'' His shades slid down his nose a bit. The angelical smile turned into a devilish grin as the two men looked straight at two eerie red-glowing demon-like eyes. They didn't dare to speak, eat, look away or run. They wished they had never even looked at those mutants like that or, even better, at all. They wished they were blind. They should have known better. Damien Black, mutant as he may be, is not a man you should mess with.

Five minutes later, Remy joined the rest of the group. They stood in a little hallway, waiting for the doors to the adjoining room to open when the Cajun came in. He straightened the sleeves on his jacket. Logan could smell fear coming from him, but it didn't smell like his own. He was going to make a remark about it when the doors to the adjoining room opened.

''Welcome to the Parisian Diner. Mesdames, Messieurs.'' The maitre guided them in.

A too posh and too richly adorned room with a too luxuriously decorated table met with the mutants.

''This is your table. Monsieur...'' He took away the chair at the head of the table, so Xavier could place himself there.

''Thank you very much.'' Everyone walked up to their places. In order, Xavier at the head, Jean, Scott, Kitty and Hank on one side, Logan at the far end and Kurt, Storm, Remy and Rogue on the other side. Remy pulled out Storm's chair. At that very point and out of thin air three new waiters appeared to seat the other women. Storm thanked Remy, and he answered

''Anything f'r a beautiful lady, non, Stormy?''

''Yes, thank you.'' she said in a sweet, calm voice and in that same voice she added ''And do not call me Stormy unless you want hail to meet your path.''

''Y'r wish is m' command.'' He smiled and sat down himself, while muttering ''Stormy.'' She glared at him, but couldn't resist the smile he gave her. She smiled. I'm afraid I am never going to loose that nickname.

Jean and Kitty also thanked their waiters, Rogue, naturally did not.

''Ah know how to pull out a chair, thank you very much.'' She said scornfully, irritated at the whole manner-thing.

''Chere, dey're just bein' polite, dat's all.''

''They're being obnoxious, there's a difference, you know.''

''Non, but maybe y' can explain it t'me sometime, ney, chere? Maybe tonight?'' He almost whispered it into her ear, in a silky, soft voice.

''Shut up, Cajun.'' She turned to him in anger, and found that his face was only a few centimeters, no, make that millimeters, away from hers. Don't blush, come on, Ah don't wear enough makeup, he'd see it. Don't blush.

''Red looks good on y', chere.''

Damn. ''Keep your eyes to yourself, unless ya want me to knock them shut!''

''Sorry, chere. We kiss an' make up?''

''Don't even try it, Cajun! You know what will happen.''

''Oui. Den again, maybe it's wort' it, non?''

Briefly a smile materialized on her face. Maybe...no, Ah can't let that happen. The split-second-smile was gone. ''Get lost!''

------

They ordered. The waiter had written the orders down and was about to walk away when Remy coughed so lightly that Wolverine had to make an effort to hear it. Swiftly the waiter turned around and stood by Remy's side.

''Monsieur?''

Remy ordered something, and it was not in English as Kitty could hear. The waiter nodded and left.

''Wow, you like totally speak French!''

''Non, I speak Cajun, petit. Not French.''

''Yeah, well that practically the same, right?''

He laughed looking at the direction of the waiter. ''Shh. Don' ever let a Frenchman hear y' say dat. Non, petit it ain' de same. Dey understand, but it not de same.''

She looked at him questionly.

''I say 'patate' he say 'pomme de terre'. It's a difference.''

A minute later the waiter came back with a bottle of his finest wines. He poured Remy a glass. Remy tasted it.

''Tastes good t'me, mon ami, merci.'' He pointed at the rest of the table to indicate that more glasses needed to be filled. Xavier wanted to make a remark, but decided against it. It's just one glass of wine, there can't be any harm in it. Besides, it is my birthday.

The rest of the evening Xavier choose to enjoy himself a bit without worrying too much. This decision was not made entirely independent of the knowledge that none of his students seemed to like the wine (which was so old that it tasted more like port than anything else). Kitty, Kurt, Jean, Evan and Rogue had tasted it and hated it. Ororo didn't seem to like it either. Logan, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it very much. Not beer, but not bad.

So, without concern, Xavier was now appreciating the deliciousness of the food served and found himself enjoying the company, small-talk and jokes of his students and friends.

-------

''So, Remy'' He glared at her. ''I mean, Damien, What was your favorite assignment at school?'' Jean was curious and anxious for small talk, as usual.

Got' be consistent now. ''History and Art.''

''Cool, are you going to go to College?''

''An' do what?''

''Well, study. Art history, for example.''

''I thought about it f'r a while, an' den firmly decided 'gainst it.''

''Oh. Why?''

''Don' wan' t' bore m'self to death just yet, chere''

''Proper education is very important, you know?'' Scott said critically, jealous of the blush that had formed on Jean's face at the mention of 'chere'. Remy was flirting a bit with her.

''You know?'' Scott said again.

''I heard y', Cycke...I heard y', processed it an' now I'm ignorin' y'.''

-------

First course came. Evan looked at it. Blinked, looked again. Blinked again. And again. And again. He took a fork and pocked it. Then he spoke.

''It's life Jim, but not as we know it.''

Remy smiled. ''Dem be escargots, mon ami.''

''They look like snails.''

''Dey are.''

''Ah.''

--------

''So what did you do before joining us?'' Scott had a bad feeling about the Cajun. He wanted to know more. He wanted everyone else to have a bad feeling about the Cajun as well. He still didn't understand how Xavier could just sit back and not be suspicious about anything.

''Been 'round a bit. Seen places. Paris, Rome, Amsterdam, Budapest, Ankara, Hong-Kong...''

''But what did you do for a living?'' Scott interrupted. ''I mean, you did work, right? If you didn't study, you must have worked.''

''I worked.''

''As what?''

''Different job in every town. Not very intellectually challenging, dough, but hey, de sites are good.''

--------

''This tastes, like, totally great!'' Kitty practically yelled to the her main course.

Remy sniggered.

''What?''

''Not'in'.''

''What? Don't just, like, laugh at me!''

''Y'do know what y'r eatin', right?''

''What am I eating?''

No answer came, only more sniggers.

''Tell me!''

Snigger.

''TELL ME!''

The sniggering stopped.

''Brains.'' He said casually.

She spat her food out. ''Oh my God!''

Evan spat out his food as well, but only because he was chocking on it while laughing.

''I think I'm going to be sick now.''

''Does zat mean your not going to eat zat, zen?'' Kurt said while already sticking his fork in her food.

''Ewh. I'm so totally going to be sick now.''

--------

''...and then the nun says: Oh, you're a fisherman .'' Evan ended, between chuckles to his own joke. Everyone sort of smiled at the terrible, terrible joke, not wanting to disappoint Evan, but not wanting to make anyone else believe they liked it either. Remy, however, laughed wholeheartedly and quite loud, apparently they shared a strange sense of humor.

God, he's so cute when he laughs. Rogue stared at him. Did I think that? Oh yeah, I thought that. And why not. It's true, he is cute. Yes, and Ah'm untouchable, so just drop it. Am Ah having a discussion with myself. God, Ah'm sad.

She's starin' at me. I can feel it. Feels nice. She's nice. Remy looked at her and smiled. She looked at him viciously, before terminating eye-contact.

Can't have him knowing I stared at him.

Oui, nice girl. Cold as ice, wid a glare matchin' Logan's, but beautiful, nonedeless.

-------

''...So me an' m'cousin, we got caught, red-handed.''

''No!'' Evan couldn't believe his ears.

''Oui.''

''Right there?''

''Oui. Dere we were, two kids, wid our li'l hands in de jewelry case o' ma tante.''

''Oh my God. Were they, like, totally furious?'' Kitty asked.

''Oui. We got grounded f'r a month an' couldn' sit f'r a week.''

It certainly was an amusing story. Of course, Remy forgot mentioning that the jewelry case of his aunt was hidden in a supposedly unbreakable and impenetrable vault. Guarded with an infra-red security system and dozens of cameras. And that the jewelry case contained only one jewel. A diamond, better known as the 'Diamond of Montague'. And that his aunt was actually the wife of the head of the New Orleans High Society Club and not truly related to him at all. And that their fathers had strictly prohibited them to set up a mission of their own to steal it. And that when his father found both of them in the vault, he got so angry that he almost lost control and set the alarms off. But, even leaving those details out, the story was great.

-------

''Am I the only one who finds it just a little bit strange that we're treated like royalty here, and that everyone addresses to Gambit as Monsieur?'' Scott said suddenly out of nowhere. The diner went silent. Only jazz could be heard.

''De name's Damien here, homme.'' He answered seriously.

''Fine, am I the only one who finds it strange that we're treated like royalty here, and that Gambit uses a fake name?''

''But homme, what's in a name, a thorn by any other name would sting as hard.'' Remy said poetically, with one hand in the air, pretending to be Hamlet. Hank smiled at the creative use of a Shakespearean quote.

''Well it's not exactly normal, is it. I for one would like to know...''

''Open y'r mouth.'' Remy interrupted.

''What?''

''Open y'r mouth.'' Strangely Scott found himself actually doing so. Remy bent over the table and looked into Scott's mouth. Remy sighed.

''Y'need to loosen up, homme, de stick is so high up y'r ass, I can see it from 'ere, it ain' healthy.''

''Shut up.'' Scott said angrily. Some chuckles could be heard in the diner.

''All I be sayin' is: live a li'l. Enjoy y'rself widout broodin' about everyting all de time. Have fun f'r once in y'r live. 'Sides, y'r spoilin' m'dinner wid dat frown o' yours.'' Having said that he continued eating, but not before snapping his fingers to acquire a second bottle of wine within an instant. He could be the Prince of France, the way they treat him here. Oh, wait, France is a republic.

-------

How old is he? Nineteen, twenty. That means he's only three years older than me. That's good. Good? Hang on, am Ah actually counting out our age-difference, here? Can someone tell me why Ah just did that? Am Ah losing my mind here?

-------

''...and den de cop says: Oh, dat's a gun , den.''

Evan practically rolled over the floor of laughter. Remy chuckled as well as he gulped down some more wine. The second bottle was almost empty, so he snapped his fingers once more not even looking up to see if anyone heard him.

He looks so good, but he has a terrible sense of humor. But that's okay, Ah could live with it. But Ah don't want to live with it, do Ah? No Ah don't. Then why am Ah thinking it? When did my mind get a mind of it's own?

A minute later, the third bottle was placed on the table.

''This is some fine wine, kid.'' Wolverine was starting to appreciate French cuisine, and wine, especially the wine. Especially this wine, it's taste somewhat resembled Cognac.

''Oui, I know, everyone should try it.'' He said looking at Scott.

''Everyone has not got age nor necessity to drink.'' Scott retorted.

''Everyone should lighten up f'r a change an' at least taste it.''

''No thank you.'' He said firmly.

''Oh, com' on, Cycke. What's de worst dat can happen, hey? Dat y'don' like it? Dat y'spit it out? Dat y'get drunk, don' remember how to go home an' pass out on de sideway? Don' worry bout it, homme! We find y' in de mornin'.'' A grin found it's way to the Cajuns face. ''Promise.''

-------

Somewhere else in New York 

It took him some time to remember who he was and why he was here. Now he remembered, he needed confirmation. He took a news paper and looked at it.

''It worked. I'm there.''

He glanced at his watch. It's broken, the crash must have smashed it. How will I find him now?

He looked around It looks so...peaceful, so innocent, so unharmed. He was determined. I'm going to make sure I'll never have to go back where I came from.

-------

Back at the restaurant 

They finished dessert and coffee was served. Insanely strong coffee was served.

''Ah, jus' de way I like it.'' Remy said. This was coffee the way he was used to it. Real Coffee. Wolverine loved it, Storm sipped it away very, very slowly, Jean practically chocked on it, Scott winced at it, Kurt was trying desperately to find a place to throw it up in, Kitty almost fainted at the smell of it, Evan gulped it down quickly, hoping not to taste it, Hank analyzed it, realized it had to much toxic substance (read: caffeine) and decided against even tasting it, Xavier mentally projected to himself to make him believe it was a nice cup of faint tea before drinking it, and Rogue simply drank it, not showing her disgust. This is so disgusting. He likes it this way? Ah don't believe it. Does the guy have no taste buds on his tongue? Maybe I should check it out sometime...Oh, man, here I go again.

''Cigar?'' A waiter stood next to Remy and offered one of the cigars in the wooden box that he held.

''Come on, y'try dat every time. I don' smoke dose. Not enough nicotine, 'member?'' He shook his head, smiled as he looked at Xavier. ''Dey never learn.'' Xavier looked at the young man questionably.

''Cigar, monsieur?'' The same man asked Xavier.

''No thank you, I do not smoke.''

Only Logan took a cigar. Real Cuban, and not the cheap kind either. Kid has got style, gotta admit that.

-------

''This certainly was a wonderful dinner. Thank you.'' Xavier said to Remy, while they stood in the lobby waiting for their coats.

''Y'r welcome.'' He nodded.

The coats arrived.

Y'all go on ahead, I catch up wid y' later. Gon' pay now.''

The party of nine left the restaurant, satisfied and absolutely stuffed.

''Pay? Remy, that will be a first.'' The waiter said, appearing behind Remy.

''Shut up.'' Remy said with a smile, and then more seriously he added "And it be Damien here, remember. Don' wan' y' sayin' m' name here ever again.''

''Oh, come on, the restaurant is empty, no one's here anymore. Damien's just for business, non?''

''Inconsistency killed de cat, mon ami. Y' call me Damien Black here, always, no exceptions, no but's, fin.'' He added strictly.

''Fine, fine. Damien Black it is.'' The waiter really didn't want any more problems with this man.

''Bien. As f'r payment, I think I pay you de traditional way.'' He smirked.

''Ah, good old fashioned blackmail, I suppose.''

''Y'got it.''

''Yeah, yeah, I know what the deal is, don't worry. Just give your father my regards will you?''

''Sure will.''

------

'Give your father my regards...' rang through his head. I wish I could... he thought.

All the way back to the mansion he thought of his past. It had been hell on the streets, trying to survive. And then, Jean-Luc LeBeau noticed him picking his pocket. He almost broke m' arm when he caught me. He smiled warily at the thought. Dat's what a street rat get if he try t' steal de wallet from de Leader of de New Orleans Guild o' Thieves.

After that unfortunate accident, Jean-Luc had taken the nine year old pick pocket in, and he and Mattie, Remy's new Tante, raised him as a son and Master Thief as required to be a member of the Guild. De first monds mus' hav' been hell f'r dem. They probably were. His brother, Henri, always said that he got in more trouble than he could handle and very often he was right. The great story of his 'aunt's jewelry' was just one example. Great were the days of this young thief. Remy sighed. But dat's all in de past. he thought sadly.

There was an everlasting feud between the Guild of Thieves and the Guild of Assassins, it went back to when the Guilds had formed, hundreds and hundreds of years ago. So many had lost their lives due to this feud, both Thieves and Assassins. His father and MariusBoudreaux, leader of the Guild of Assassins, decided that the only thing to bring the Guilds together was a marriage between one's son and the other's daughter. At the age of fourteen, Remy was engaged. They didn't really love each other, other than as good friends, but that didn't matter. Remy LeBeau and Belle Boudreaux were to be married on Remy's eighteenth birthday.

Dat day... Everything had gone fine, everyone was there, Thieves and Assassins. The marriage had just been sealed when suddenly...

Dat connard, Julien... Julien Boudreaux entered the scene challenging Remy to a duel to death. He never approved of the marriage and hated the thought of the unification of the Guilds.

Remy soon realized it was a lose-lose situation. If he lost the duel, he would die and the feud between the Guilds would continue. If he won, Julien would die, but the Assassins would not let him get away with it and kill him as soon as they got the chance, causing the feud between the Guilds to continue and worsen.

In spite of these odds Remy fought his best and 'won'. Julien was dead. Unlike what Remy had predicted, the Assassins did not kill him. A Meeting between the two Guilds was held, it was decided that Gambit should leave the Guild and New Orleans and never come back. Remy knew that this was his fathers doing. If de Assassins had deir way, I'd be long dead. Mon pere, he did de best he could. He knew that, and his father knew that too. It was the only way for Remy to live. Just wish I could still see dem someday.

Ever since he had been free-lancing all over the world, taking on jobs no one thought would be possible to pull. No pinch was too hard or too risky for him. No stake to high. He was Gambit.

He was still regarded as a Master Thief, one of the (if not the) best, and member of the Guild to everyone that knew about them. Whatever went on between him and the Guild privately was none of anyone's business.

An now I be 'ere, he thought as he pulled over to the estate of Xavier's School for the Gifted. pretendin' I can belong somewhere 'gain...

He stood there for about five minutes, not knowing what to do, still dwelling lost in thoughts.

If y'can' beat dem, drown 'em. He thought as he decided to eradicate his thoughts at O'Mally's.

A/N Did I just do a bit of angst? I think I did. How unlike me. And look, more Romy-like behaviour. And plot! How nice, a true plot is forming.

Anyway, on next: Will the mystery guy reveal himself? Will he turn out to be a really nice little boy-scout? Will he scare the shit out of Remy? He most certainly will! If he's truly a boy-scout, that is.

And of course you have to review. Because I need reviews as a breath of life guiding me to my computer to write more. ( How dramatic. How soap-opera like. How sad but true. sigh).


	6. Give me my coffee and no one gets hurt

Disclaimer: The only thing I own are the voices in my head. 

Ishandahalf Did you mummy never tell you that it's not nice to blackmail people with shiny golden stars? No? Oh, in that case, gimme, gimme, gimme, I want more! Look! I got some more Romy! Well not Romy, more Rogue beats up the Cajun, but that's good too, right? I'm a good little maniac! Gimme, gimme, gimme!

Anime Addicted Yay! Thanx! Funny but Natural, the story of my life. Oh, no, wait my life is Boring and Freaky. Oh well…

Leann Thanx. But if I write any faster than I do now my fingers will get very upset and my brains will explode. Au.

A/N Well, here's another chapter for you. Btw, if read my other story you will make me a very happy disturbed person. It has Romy! 

_6. Tell me your name and I will tell you what raving psychotic maniac will try to kill you. _

Fissie

Morning had broken, like the first morning, Blackbird had spoken, like the first bird, Praise for the singing, praise for the morning, Praise for the springing fresh from the world. ~Someone shoot m', please.~ He really didn't want to wake up. This had happened every single day for the last few weeks he had been there. It was the one part of the daily routine he did not enjoy. He loved sneaking around the house when the students were at school and the rest was busy doing something else. He loved finding all the rooms and all the closets that he was certain he was not supposed to be looking in. He loved knowing the security flaws. There weren't many, but to a thief like him, they were open doors. He loved the danger-room sessions in the afternoon. He loved those one-on-one's with Wolverine. He didn't like loosing, but he loved getting even. He loved cooking dinner, when it was his turn and eating out when it was Jean's turn. He even loved the constant nagging of Xavier insisting him to go to College. He loved getting home just in time for curfew, wait until everyone slept, sneak out, enjoy the nightlife of New York, come back at three or four in the morning and trying not to wake his roommate. In short, he was slowly getting comfortable in the mansion. One thing stood in his way of feeling absolutely at peace. Mornings. To Remy, seven o'clock in the morning is not a humane hour to be conscious. Kurt however, was right awake and his bafm-ing woke the Cajun every morning. Just like today. 

''Stop dat! Some people don' hav' t' wake up yet.'' His sleepy yet angry voice managed to say, while he turned to his other side.

''But you'll miss breakfast!'' Kurt nagged. He knew Remy hated mornings and enjoyed irritation him. 

''Oh, no. De horror, de pain, de agony.'' Kurt could hear those muffled words coming from underneath the sheets.

''Fine wiz me, grouchy. Tag (A/N the German 'tag' as in 'bye', not as in 'tag, you're it'.)'' He bafmed out. The intense smell of brimstone made sure Remy knew he would not get any sleep anymore this morning. So he decided to get up looking up to the skies. 

''Why me?'' He pleaded.

He dropped his head to look at the ground. ''Why me?'' 

He decided to check out this morning breakfast thing for the first time in all these weeks. ~How bad can it be?~ 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Bad. As he entered the kitchen he found nine horribly awake people present. They greeted him.

''Good morning!'' Too cheerful. 

''Coffee.'' Was the only sound his raw voice could make. 

''Over there.'' Evan said, grinning.

He took a mug, filled it, tasted the coffee and spat it out in disgust. 

''What's dis?''

''Coffee.''

''Dis is _not _ coffee.''

''Its decaf.'' Kitty said.

As soon as the word was spoken the remaining contents of the pot went down the drain and a new batch was made. Remy was amazed of the amount of energy he could manage to gather at such an early hour in order to get himself a proper cup of coffee. After a few minutes, Remy filled his mug again and sighed.

''Ah, caffeine. Hmmmm.''

''Want some toast?'' Jean asked him kindly, a bit too kindly in Scott's eyes.

''Only 'f y' smash it to a pulp so I can drink it. Don' think anything solid can pass m' throat right now'.'' 

''Not a morning person then?'' Evan said laughingly.

''Where I come from w' don' acknowledge mornin's as existin'.''

''It must be a Southerners thing.'' Scott said in Rogue's direction when she came in. 

''Don't talk ta me!'' She scowled as she walked towards the coffeepot.

All of the sudden the Cajun was up and awake. ''G'mornin', chere. How are y'today?'' 

''Are you deaf? Ah said, don't talk ta me. With that Ah mean, don't bother communicating with me. Do ya think ya and yar five brain cells can manage to understand that?'' She took a mug.

''Me an' m'five brain cells have oder things t'think 'bout.'' He answered, not trying to hide that he was checking her out. She put her mug down and looked at him.

''Me and my fist would be happy to show you how much we appreciate that.''

''Me an' m'mouth 'd like t' show y'how thankful we are f'r y'r appreciation.''

''Fist, Remy. Remy, Fist.'' She said before punching him in his stomach. Than she marched away.

''Chere, y'make m'tummy feel all fuzzy an' nice.'' He said with a childish voice. ~Dieu. Dat girl has a stron' right arm.~

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Having survived morning, Remy found himself in the everyday routine. The students had left to school and/or college. Logan had left to, well, somewhere. Xavier was busy in paper works, Beast was locked away in his lab and Storm was gardening. Peace and tranquility. Rest and serenity at last. Nothing to do, no business to attend to, just sitting back and relax while reading a book. So that's what he did. He took a book, sat in a comfy big leather armchair and started reading. Calmness at last. ~Call me Ishmael~ He sighed. ~Who am I kiddin'?~ Not calm, not at rest, not relaxed. Remy was bored. ~Maybe I should consider dat College thing. Can' be worse dan sittin' here all day.~ Confused that his own thoughts guided him to considering college, he felt he needed some fresh air. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The park was almost deserted when he reached the bench. Just some birds up in the trees. No one in sight when he sat down. Remy took out a cigarette. He brought his left index finger to the top of the cigarette. It started to glow, and with it he lit the cigarette. A trick he learned a long time ago. In his mind, Remy had the most useful power in the world. It turned normal objects into hand grenades, it mended, it warmed up cold soup, and best of all, it lit his cigarettes. 

Out of nowhere, a tall man appeared before Remy wearing something that looked like a ragged version of Cyclops uniform. The dark man was almost as wide as he was tall. His face, filled with anger, had a what Remy recognized to be a thin 'M' tattooed on it, right on his forehead. It almost looked like a scar. All together, a weird man. 

''You! The Witness!'' He shouted and without a second thought he pointed an incredibly large and weird looking gun-like device at the Cajun. Definitely a weird man.

''Mon ami, if I be a witness, I wan' a protection program.'' He started shifting to the nearest end of the bench, but the man's gun did not stop pointing at him. He wanted to throw some charged cards at him, but he really didn't feel like starting a riot in the middle of a park. So he made a backward flip and started running away from the weirdo and especially from the huge gun. Did that mad man want him dead? Why? Why did he call Remy a witness? 

Lost in thought he didn't notice his surroundings and his attempt of fleeing was abruptly stopped by a tree. The man quickly caught up on him and the gun was pointed to his head again. 

''I had not thought I would recognize you. But your tricks are still the same.'' His rage and anger were well audible. ''You will not escape me now, LeBeau!'' 

''How y'know m'name?'' He glared at the man viciously. He hadn't told anyone around here his last name. And he didn't like it to be used in vain. 

''I know many things about you, traitor!''

''Y'know nothin'!'' He kicked the mad man's gun away and started running again. ~Traitor? I never betrayed anyone. Well, not in any oder way dan professionally...Could he be an Assassin? No, Assassins may be stupid, but at least dey're subtle. Dis psycho here don' even know de meanin' o de word.~ He heard the man shout at him.

''You are Remy LeBeau, son of Jean-Luc LeBeau, exiled Prince of the New Orleans Guild of Thieves, X-man, Murderer, Traitor!'' 

Faster than humanly possible, Remy turned around and ran back to the man. ''Keep y'r voice down, will y'!'' 

At that point Remy concluded that running back towards a maniac was not a very smart move on his behalf, because the gun was again pointed to his head. 

''Who are you?'' Obviously a psychopath and Remy had enough experience to know that the best way to keep a raving maniac from shooting you is to ask questions and talk about their intents. Lesson one in dealing with psychopaths: You beat around the bush and they won't beat you to pulp. 

''My name is unimportant, as you will not live to see another day, LeBeau.''

''How d' y'know 'bout me?'' Lesson two: Keep babbling. 

''Stop postponing the inevitable.'' Remy distinctly heard the gun making a very small noise. It sounded, yes, it almost sounded like ~De clickin' o' a gun?~ Time was running short. So, Remy resorted to a less ingenious, but non the less efficient diversion technique.

''Look behind y'. A t'ree-headed monkey!'' The man, who Remy by now had decided to refer to as the raving psychotic maniac, looked behind him in a reflex. Remy kicked him in the groin, flung a charged card at him and started running. ~De taller dey are, de dumber dey turn out t'be.~ Not very ingenious, but a highly effective escape routine it was. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Morning continued is this awful way. Where ever he went the raving psychotic maniac would soon find him. He didn't slow down, he didn't tire he didn't look injured although Remy was certain he should have considering the amount of charged cards he had tossed at him. All and all, not a nice way of beginning an otherwise perfectly beautiful day. 

After running for a mile or nine he found a nice pub. He entered it. ~De more people I'm around, de less chance o'bein' shot at.~

Unfortunately, after a few glasses of bourbon he needed to go to the restroom. Guess who he found, unharmed and unscratched for the millionth time that day.

''You will not escape so easily, LeBeau!''

~Dis can' be real.~ He pinched himself ~Au. Merde.~ He took another card in his hand.

''The only thing you will destroy is this room. I am mutant too, I can absorb the energy you throw at me and use it against you. You cannot harm me.''

~Dat explains a lot.~ The man moved towards him. ~An' it don' explain notin' Cajun-friendly.~

Gambit slowly stepped back, until he reached one of the walls. He was caught between the rock and the raving psychotic maniac. ~I feel like a goalie f'r de dart team.~ Than he saw his escape, hanging above the delirious man. 

''Love t' hang 'round, cher, y'know, get a coupl' o'drinks, get t'know y' a li'l, but I don' wanna.'' He flung a card to the ceiling. The heavy lamp fell on his head and knocked the man out. Probably not for longer than a second, but Remy had no intent to sit and wait for him to get up. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A fanatic man, normally known to man as Remy, was banging on the door. They had never given him his own keys, Xavier assumed Wolverine had given them to him, Wolverine assumed Storm had given them to him, and so on. He had never asked for keys, because he didn't require them. But now he was in a slight bit of panic and his hands would not allow him to pick the lock.

''OPEN DE GODDAMN DOOR! COM' ON! COM' ON! OPEN IT!'' He said while slamming his fists on the door.

Logan answered it. 

''What going on Gumbo?'' Remy stormed passed him. ''CLOSEDEDOORDERE'SAFUCKIN'TENFOOTGUYWIDAN'M' TATTOOEDONHISFOREHEADCHASIN'M'ASSWIDAFIVEFOOTRIFLEHIDEMEQUICK!'' Quicksilver would have had trouble understanding him.

''What?'' Logan growled. 

''I said: DERE'SAFUCKIN'TENFOOTGUYWIDAN'M'TATTOOEDONHISFOREHEADCHASIN'M'ASSWIDAFIVEFOOT RIFLEHIDEMEQUICK!'' 

Some of the students came down to see what all the commotion was about.

''I, like, distinctly heard 'ten foot guy', I think.''

''Ja, I zink I heard, 'five foot rifle'.''

''Just calm down and tell us!'' Scott said annoyed. 

Remy sighed and tried to calm down. ''Dere's a...'' he bit his lip not to use the F-word ''...Raving psychotic maniacal ten foot guy wid an 'M' tattooed on his forehead chasin' m' 'round like I got Prozac stuck t' m'ass. Now, I get dis kind o'things all de time, no worries dere. But dis one has a five foot gun he's too eager to put m' down wid.'' Calming down was not an option.

Logan, Kurt, Kitty and Scott really didn't know what to make of this. So they stared at him as if he was the maniac. Remy was getting annoyed.

''He chased m'all day! He followed m'here too. I know it. He be out dere right now, watin' f'r me t'come out.'' 

''You're paranoid.'' ~And most likely high on something.~ Scott added privately.

''Jus' cause I'm paranoid, don' mean dey're not after m'.''

There was a call at front gate of the mansion. Remy went back in panic-mode.

''If y' can' beat dem, hide until de blow is over. Bye.'' He ran up the stairs. 

Scott answered the call.

''Yes?''

''Good morning. My name is Bishop. I wish to talk to you. It is quite urgent.''

A/N Short, but I hope you like it.

On next: Bishop wants to talk? That's a new one. What will he say? Will he get a cup of nice tea to calm him down while he talks? 

Review to make me continue, review to make me stop. Either way, you review because if you don't I'm going to cry. And then you'll drown in the salty river of my tears. Not a nice prospect, right? You know what to do.


	7. Warning: sanity running low

Disclaimer: I own…eh…ah-ha! I own this paperclip! Mwho-ho-ha-ha! The world shall soon be mine! For I will…eh…prick you with my paperclip! (?) Maybe I should stick to fishing. * the voices in my head nod in approval*.

Ima Super Mute Ant Yes! I knew ole Bishie would be a prize winner! More Bishop on the way.

Ishandahalf Keep on feeding me golden stars! I'm hungry and it's almost Christmas! And, hey, Bishop may be a bad mean killer machine, but he's a well-mannered bad mean killer machine. 

Caliente Gracias! Muchas gracias! *Gloat*

NotNeeded Exactly! You and I, we have an understanding. He should have been main-character. He should have been a star. He should have his own show. And a movie. Definitely a movie too. Because giving him the great lead role of 'name-appearing-on-computer-screen-somewhere-in-X2' is not enough. No sirrey.

Anime Addicted One does what one can.

Lonewolf44 Tazo calm tea, he? Maybe I should…

A.M.bookworm247 I know, I don't know what to make of this story either. Which might not be so good, because I'm writing it…Anyway…I'm the one who should be honored, there are actually people who read and like this. Wow. 

A/N Sorry I took a bit long. I am recovering from a severe Soul Calibur II addiction. Who am I kidding, recovering? I'm gonna need rehab for this.

_7. One day we will all look back on this and run into a parked car. _

Fissie 

He lost track of the traitor again. Then he saw Xavier's institute. He remembered that place from old pictures, from before it was smashed in ruins. Should he enter and talk to them? Tell them they are in danger? Explain? It might be the only option left. Time was running short. So he pressed the bell. 

''Yes?'' The voice sounded a bit odd. 

''Good morning. My name is Bishop. I wish to talk to you. It is quite urgent.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Bishop was lead to Xavier's study, to be allowed to tell his story. They didn't know Remy was hiding in the in ventilation system hearing every word. Out of sight, out of telepathic reach, out of Logan's nose. Perfect.

''My name is Bishop. I have traveled back in time from the future. In my time, some hundred years from now, live for mutants in unbearable. We are hunted down, locked away, used, killed. We are marked from birth.'' He passed a hand to his forehead. ''I joined a group of mutants who fight for mutant-rights and freedom.'' He took a small pause, not knowing exactly how to continue. These were the X-men. Children, really. And yet they held the future of mutantkind.

''There is a theory that all that has happened, all the horror, would have been prevented if the X-men had not died.'' They looked at him, startled. ''Yes, you will all die in the near future, betrayed, killed, murdered. Your deaths are the end of all hope for mutant kind. Because of it, generations of mutants will suffer oppression, hate, imprisonment and death.'' 

''All because we're dead?'' Evan asked. 

''Yes. Your role in this might not be so evident now. But in the coming few weeks you will play an enormous role in the fight for mutant rights. Naturally, no one can ever be one hundred percent certain that your lives are the cause of all that has happened, but evident is that without you there simply is no hope. I must try and save the future.''

''How do you plan on doing that?'' Xavier asked. Mentally he asked Logan if he smelled the man lying. Logan shook his head. It confirmed what he had sensed, no matter how odd it sounded, the man was telling the truth.

''Right before I came here, we found a recording that implied that you were betrayed and the traitor was one of your own. It can only be the one man who survived. He has betrayed and killed you all.'' 

''That's why you were chasing Gambit this morning?'' Rogue asked. 

''He is the one. The Witness as he calls himself in my time, as he was the last one to see the X-men alive. LeBeau. I saw him in the park and recognized him instantly. It is him. He must be killed before the damage is done.''

''No one is going to kill no one around here, bub.'' Logan's claws were itching. 

''You do not understand. He has...he will betray and kill you. It is his live or your lives and the lives of millions of mutants all over the planet.''

''What exactly will we do that makes you so sure it's our deaths that will cause your future to be so messed up?'' 

''The president will try and pass a mutant-registration law some day soon. Your efforts to solve matters peacefully and prevent the law from passing and to subdue the mutant-hate that follows will prove vital to peace between humans and mutants. When you died, a war rose. Mutants led by Magneto against humans and a worldwide army. A bloody war that went on for decades.'' He paused for a slight moment. ''In the end mutants lost. Ever since than we have been living either poverty and imprisonment. Not many can hide from mutant-hunters. The circumstances are unbearable. This is why LeBeau must die.'' 

Remy suddenly appeared from behind the door. He had heard enough. Bishop noticed and turned around. Instantly the gun was pointed to him again. 

''You end here!''

''No I won'.'' He really didn't feel as self-assured as he sounded, but he was with his team right now, so the psycho couldn't harm him, could he. Besides no way they were going to believe him. ~Right?~

''I would not be so sure of myself, traitor!'' He heard that distinct almost inaudible clicking noise again. He flinched.

''Don'!'' Giving in that you are scared and really do not want to die never was a very stylish strategy to stop anyone from killing you, but since he was still not dead, it had to be an effective one.

''Give me one reason not to blast you away right now.''

''Cos y'r better den me an' don' believe in physical violence?'' ~Good thinkin' LeBeau. Beg t'de psychotic screwball, why don' y'.~ 

''Think again.''

''Dis is insane! Y'wan kill me f'r something I ain't done.''

''Yet.''

''An' won'. Y'r delirious. I don' kill.''

''You do. You have. And you will.'' Not much point in discussing that.

''Bishop, maybe we should talk this over. I am sure an other solution can be found. Maybe...''

''An oder solution?''

''Yes, Gambit. This problem...''

'' What problem? Dis psychotic maniac is lyin'. From de future? Come on, who believes dat, ain? I ain' gon' kill no one. Dere is no problem except you lettin' a maniac in y'r house.''

''Remy, we must consider...''

''I don' believe it. Y'believe him?''

''Gambit, we must bear in mind...''

''Y'believe him! How you know he ain' lyin'? It could be a trick.''

''I do not wish to believe him, but...''

''But what? I tell y' I won', he tell y' I will. It be his word 'gainst mine.''

''Yes, but he...'' The professor expected to be interrupted again, but Remy remained silent. 

''I do not sense him lying. I am not saying it is true, I am merely saying that he believes it is true. We must consider...''

'' If dis guy came here tellin' Scott was de traitor, you'd be all over him tellin' him he was wrong.'' Gambit said matter-of-factly.

''That's because we know Scott.'' Jean said almost whispering, but Remy heard her so quickly she added ''I mean, you've been here for weeks and all we know of you is that you're name is Remy. We know nothing about you. We've known Bishop for five minutes and already we know more of him than we know of you.''

''Oui, you know he's lyin'. An' I don think w'can trust him.''

''Of course not. You're a thief. You do not trust anyone nor does anyone trust you.''

''Thief maybe, but I ain' no Assassin!''

''Thief?'' Scott asked.

''He never mentioned it? How typical.'' Bishop said in disgust.

''You're a thief?'' Scott repeated.

''You hav' no right to come here, claimin' y'know all 'bout me, an' put de rest o' de team 'gainst me.''

''You're a thief?!'' Scott said louder.

''No! Yes. Was.'' Remy was confused. He had no time explaining the whole thief-business. Didn't anyone else see that was not the core to the problem here. 

''You never told us.'' This was the moment he was waiting for. Gambit exposed as a thief. He knew there was something fishy about the Cajun, and it wasn't just his aftershave.

''Y'never asked.''

''A thief talking about how someone else is lying. Typical. So, thief, how do we know _your _ intents here are pure? How do we know your not just here to...'' Scott accused. 

''Trust m', 'f I wanted t'rob y', you'd notice. Cos I'd be gone wid de antique candles an' Matisse from Xavier's study, de china vase from de hall an' de medical equipment o' McCoy 'fore y'could say de words: I don' trust y'.'' Remy glared at Scott. This was not a conversation he wanted to have right now. Or ever, as a matter of fact.

''LeBeau must die. There is no discussion possible on the matter.'' 

That brought the Cajun back to the conversation and the gun pointed in his direction.

''So when's all dis gon' happen den?''

''Any time soon.''

''Well, can' y'just lock me away f'r a while den?''

''I know of no place that could keep you, thief.'' 

Remy actually felt a bit proud of the statement. It was true. No one could keep him anywhere for too long. But gathering his thoughts to the current matter, this was not working, he had to think of other ways to postpone his execution. An idea popped into his head.

''What if dis is an alternate past and y'r not from de right future?'' ~I should really stop watchin' science fiction series.~

''It was well calculated.'' He stepped closer and once again, that all too familiar gun was pointed at the all too familiar place on his forehead causing the all too familiar fear on the Cajun.

''Bishop.'' Xavier interrupted. ''Please give me some time to think about what you have just told me. You may be blinded by your rage towards Gambit, but our eyes are still open. Give me time to think about alternatives. I will not have you killing one of my students.''

''Think all you want. But I am not waiting too long. As soon as I think anything is going to happen, I will not think twice and take out this traitor.''

''Dis is stupid.''

''Gambit, calm down. Bishop, please be patient. Matters must be discussed further before anything else. Please leave.'' Everyone with the exception of Storm, Hank and Logan left the study.

''What do you think, professor?'' Storm asked.

''I find it hard to believe. Remy has done nothing to show other intents than genuine ones. Why would he betray us?''

''It strikes me how little we know of him.''

''Yes, true. And he is impossible to read, he has strong mental shields.''

''Maybe he has a secret agenda.''

''Hank, everyone here could have a secret agenda.''

''Charles, a few weeks back he took us to dinner under a false name, Damien Black.''

''Yes. We've never really addressed that matter.'' Xavier wondered why he let such a thing slip at the time.

''We have never addressed any matter with him. We have let everything slip. That day, a few men stared at Kurt and me. The didn't look like mutant friendly people. Remy said he'd talk to them, like he knew them. Why would he be connected to such people?''

''Perhaps we should talk to him privately.''

''He leaves late at night and doesn't come back until early in the morning.'' Logan said. He heard the Cajun leave the grounds almost every night. He kid was quiet and sneaky but he couldn't hide from Logan sensitive hearing 

''Yes. I have let a lot of matters slip.'' 

They continued talking.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy didn't know what to do, Bishop and that annoying gun were stalking him wherever he went. He went to the kitchen, Bishop was already there, He went to the bathroom, Bishop would wait outside, He went to the rec. room, Bishop would follow.

''Can y' stop it, already.''

''Stop what?''

''Stalkin' me.''

''No.''

''Fine!'' He sat down on a chair and took a game of cards. He counted them, making sure there were fifty-two cards. He shuffled them and began to lay them down on the floor. Bishop saw it. ~I remember that game.~

''What y'lookin' at?''

''That game. I know it.''

''How nice f'r y'.'' Remy said annoyed.

''Can I join you?'' What was he thinking? He couldn't let his guard slip. LeBeau had to die. Why was he being such a fool?

''Non. It's a solitaire. But you probably know dat already, non?''

''I know it can be played alone, but it can also be played together.''

''Y' know how t'play it?''

''Yes. When played with two players it becomes an tactical and logical game, with a certain resemblance to chess.''

''And y'know how t'play it?''

''Yes.''

''Den let's.''

He gathered the cards and shuffled them again. He gave half the pack to Bishop. The game began. 

And continued for hours. 

''F'r a stuck up maniacal psychopath, y' play a damn good game o'cards.''

''I have played this game since I was a child.''

''Dat's nice. But no matter, I beat y'anyway.'' He lay down his last card.

''Game over. Y'r dead.''

''You win.''

'''Course. Now you tell me, who taught you dis game?''

''It has been so long ago, I do not even remember.''

''You lie. I see de way you play it. I know dat strategy. Now tell me, who thaught you.''

Bishop sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. Why didn't he just pull the trigger? What was holding him back? Against a good portion of his conscious he decided to tell Gambit.

''You did.''

''Say what?''

''We played it endlessly.''

''I know y' in de future?''

''Yes.''

''But dats a hundred years from now, ain' I supposed t'be dead by den?''

''Why you still live I do not know, you are not very talkative. It is just one of the mysteries that shall never be solved. But you are alive, very much so.''

''I'm still gon' be alive hundreds of years in de future?'' A small smile appeared on the Cajun's face.

''Not if I can help it.'' Bishop said, more to remind himself of his mission than for any other reason.

''An' y knew me? Personally?''

''You are my father.'' Bishop's job had just been made a hundred times more difficult, all because of himself. Because he just had to tell LeBeau. He felt like a fool.

Meanwhile the Cajun was speechless...for about five seconds. 

''I feel like I'm stuck in a sick version o' Star Wars. I am your fader?''

''Yes.''

''I don' see de resemblance.''

''You found my sister and me on the streets and you took us in.''

A thought hit Remy. ''Ah-ha! See, I'm a nice guy. I saved y'r lives. No need t'kill me. I'm de good guy.'' He put on his best smile.

''I do not believe you have ever cared for neither my sister nor me. I still do not know why you took us in.'' 

''I got a hunch.'' Remy remembered his own father, doing the same thing. 

''Tell me.''

''Nah.''

''Anyway, you never cared. You were always too busy with business.'' This was true. Bishop wanted it to be true. He needed it to be true, therefore it was true.

''What business?'' Remy was ever curious.

''Criminal affairs of all sorts. Paintings, jewelry, antiques, nothing is save from you. Humans are not as bad off as mutants and a lot of them have a lot of money. You betray your kind by selling your wares to them.''

''Let m' get dis straight. I get t'be more den a hundred years old an' I can still get anythin' I wan' an' kick everyone's ass? I'm likin' de future already.''

''Do you only hear what you want to hear? I am trying to tell you that you will be the one of the most cruel and horrid persons in the world. You only took us in to use our powers for your own good. We were only usable tools in your mansion.''

'''M gon' live in a mansion. Sweet.''

''You care not for the living or for the dead! You have no respect for anything. You find the deaths of all those mutants laughable! You tell horrible facts as if they were past-time stories. You don't care! You steal and sell and no one can find or trace you. While everyone is dying trying to save mutant kind all you do is sit and stare at that stupid Renoir.''

''M'favorite painter.'' Tears could swell in his eyes. "Which paintin'?''

''Nothing has changed. You still do not care about anything.'' Bishop felt beaten. His father was a cruel man, and he often wondered if that had always been so. Now it appeared his suspicions were right. LeBeau was an egoistic self-centered arrogant man. 

Suddenly Remy became more serious, he straightened his face. ''I picked y'off de streets, non?''

''Yes.''

''Den won' killin' me reduce de chance o' you survivin'?''

''If not for you, we most likely would have died that very night you found us.''

''Den if y'kill me now, I won' be 'round in de future, so I won' find y'at all, an' y'll die.''

''Probably.''

''But if y'r dead, y'can' come back here an' kill me.''

''That's the first sensible thing you've said yet.'' 

''I know. I think I need an aspirin.''

''Sensible, but it's wrong. I my time we have solved these loop-problems. I don't know how to explain it to you exactly, but it suffices to say that...'' A long speech on wormholes, quantum-mechanics and interstellar gadgets followed. 

''Make dat an aspirin an a glass o'vodka.''

''The point is this. I am everyone's last hope of a good future. If killing you means I die as well, than so be it. I do _not_ plan to let any of my fellow mutants down, father.''

''Well, I don' plan on dyin' any time soon, pup.'' 

''I will not let anyone die.'' Xavier interrupted as he entered the rec. room.

''The needs of many surpasses de live of one.'' Bishop stated.

''Y'r poppa teach y'dat? Don' sound like me. 'My needs surpass de lives o' everyone else'. Dat sound more like m', non?'' Remy wondered for a brief second why he enjoyed pissing off Bishop so much. Almost even more than pissing off Scott.

''It does sound like you. But you are wrong. Our lives stand in no contrast to the lives of so many.''

''Who tought y'dat den, ain? Not me. No one ever tol' y' dat y'have t' listen to y'r poppa?'' His hands were on his hips. He faked an angry look. Remy in father-mode, he almost scared himself. 

''Surprisingly, no.'' Bishop found no humor in this mockery.

''Well why don' y' start now, ney? Never t'old t'start.''

Bishop merely glared at him.

''Look, it's late, why don' we discuss dis later, tomorrow, after a good nights rest. I'm sure dere's a spare room...''

''I will not leave you out of my sight.''

Remy smiled ''Ah. I knew y'loved me. All dis "I wan' kill y'", "I will eradicate y'", "you die now'" dat was just y'r li'l way o'saying "I love y'", non? Well, no worries den, cher, I love y' too.'' Remy reached out a hand to put on Bishops shoulder. With one solid movement Bishop pushed his arm away. 

''I will not leave you out of my sight because I do not trust you, I will sleep where ever you sleep.''

''Didn' y'daddy tell y' not t'jump in bed wid some one on a first date?''

''...''

''Didn't expect I would.''

''Gambit is right, it is late, we should discuss this tomorrow. Kurt can sleep in the guest room, Bishop can sleep in his bed.'' Xavier said, he was rather tired. Tomorrow everything would look a lot better. He hoped.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

They had settled for the night. Remy sat on his bed and saw Bishop lay down on Kurt's bed, above the sheets, with his gun still on his arm.

''Y'gon lose dat?'' He pointed at the gun.

''A good soldier never lets go of his gun.''

''So, y' just gon' hang on t' it like a teddy?''

''Yes, much like you hang on to the .45 you keep under your pillow.'' Remy stared at the taller, dark man. 

''I found it under your pillow once when I was a child. I expected you to be very angry at me for taking it. You weren't. So I dared asking you what it was. You told me it was a classic Colt .45, a gun from a long time ago. I asked you why you kept it under your pillow. You just said: if you can't beat them, shoot them. Many mutant-hunters have been overcome with it.'' Bishop realized this was probably the reason LeBeau wasn't dead yet, somewhere in his hatred there was still some love for his father. He had saved his live so many times. But how could he feel that? He shouldn't let it interfere. He should not be distracted by his feelings.

Remy smiled, lay down and patted his pillow. He fell asleep with a song in his head. ~....It was back in fourty-two, when times where hard, he had a Colt 45 and a deck of cards, Stagger Lee...~

A/N I'd love to write the whole lyric to that song, but that would mean rating this story very strongly. It is _not_ a kind little love song. So, I do think you'll agree that this is a weird chapter. Because it is. I hope it's a bit understandable, but please tell me if you really think it's a messed up chapter.

On next: Will Bishop kill his daddy? Will Remy get his new son a new bike for the summer? Will there be any son-father bonding? I didn't think so either.

Review and make me one happy screwball.


	8. Me on decaf is bad for your well being

Disclaimer: I own the voices in my head and you're just jealous because all they're good voices and they only talk to me.

Ethnix The mini series were great. And…*laughs like a maniac at the mental image of Bishop on a pink little kids bike with a nice yellow flag and colorful ribbons*… sorry about that. Maybe I will though…

Rogue Warrior Spirit thank you for reading my story and, please, stay here on that wonderful train called madness.

Ishandahalf No I won't let Remy die, forever. He's my favchar. So here's a living Remy and a nice Romy thingie. (I cannot give you a bigger, fatter hint to give me gold stars.)

Sphinx29 Is he really going to be in X3? Really? Really? It's not just some cameo part where he just sits in jail and doesn't even get a line, is it? Oh, and thanx for liking my story. 

Whyndsong Yes, thank you, the world has now one more happy screwball to take care of. 

GodofFire Well, it was Xavier in the comic, and in the old X-men cartoon it was Mystique as Gambit killing the president. but I really haven't thought of a traitor yet. Maybe it will be Remy after all…

Anime Addicted My thoughts exactly, I currently have a subscription to Aspirin and Co. Au, my head.

Kitrazzle Fayn Your wish is my command, sire. Here's more.

Natural Psylocke? Hmmm. Cable? Hmmm. That might be interesting…As for Remy's Master Thief status, I don't really get what you mean. I mean, he knows a lot about a lot and he mingles like no other, but Bishop has been with him since he was a little Bishie-wishie so, he probably knows Remy's ways and strategies and can find him without much difficulty. Thank you for liking my story. 

Caliente Yes, I am a happy screwball. Thank you, now if you will excuse me I have a one o'clock appointment with a restraint-suit and a shrink. 

I.M.Bookworm247 No, no! I love Remy. I would never hurt him…much. I mean, this is a story on how Gambit was supposed to be introduced in the series and killing him in his first appearance-thingy would really narrow down that goal. But I still think I get to torture him a bit, you know, just poking, just joking. 

A/N You know how ideas pop in your head and just write themselves and you think wow how great maybe I should write a story and then suddenly you realize that your idea is only half finished and you have no idea how to continue it? I do. Just check this chapter. It will all be as clear as mud. 

_8. Why are our days numbered and not, say lettered?_

Fissie

~Why am I still here?~ He had woken rather suddenly, wondering about his odd behavior. ~I'm a Master Thief. I could sneak out o' here and dey'd never find m'~ He pondered this for about three seconds. ~Sounds like a good idea t'me.~ It was like a watching a silent movie, he got out of bed without making a single sound. He put on his clothes without a whisper. He opened the window without a creak. He stepped out without a...

''Where are you going?'' The voice was gruff and painfully awake. 

~Damn.~ ''Quiet early mornin' stoll?'' He tried his best smile.

''Do not try to escape.'' 

His best smile was not enough for this man. Maybe his best plea of innocence worked. ''Who? Me? I'd never.''

Bishop merely looked at him angrily.

~I wonder, 'f he smiled, would his face crack an' break?~ ''How'd y' hear m'?'' 

''I know you and your moves far too well, father.''

~He knows m' moves...Merde. Could I really be dat stupid?~ Remy sighed. ''Lemme guess. I taught y' 'bout bein' a Thief, didn' I?''

''Yes, the basic everyday essentials.''

''Remind me t' kick m'self in de future f'r doin' dat.''

''I won't.'' Bishop stated. And so the lovely circle of life (and in this case death) started again, right there, at seven o' clock in the morning. Too early and too annoying. 

''Yeah, yeah, cos m' future ends here, I shall not live anoder day, yaddie-yaddie-ya. But hey, meanwhile, I still here.''

''Do not tempt me.'' The determined sound in the man's voice made Remy briefly wonder why he had such an obvious death-wish. 

~Let's try dis de oder way round.~ Remy knew Bishop's conflicting feelings. They came in pretty handy, Remy was certain they were the only reason he was still alive. Somewhere in all that obvious hate was some sort of respect for the man Bishop still considered his father. ''Come on. Admit it. Y' think I'm alright. Y' don' really wan' t' kill m'. Dat's why I's still here; I'm growin' on y'.''

''Yes. Like a painful swelling.''

''See. You even made a joke now. In a while, we'll be able to get to de whole fader-son bondin' bit. Don' worry 'bout it.'' He stepped into the bathroom. 

When he returned, Bishop was still sitting on Kurt's bed. 

''You gon' move, or y' jus' gon' admire de floor?''

He didn't speak. 

''It be a beautiful floor, I gotta admit. Nice red carpet, very soft, very nice. Mind not burnin' a hole in it wid y'r stare?''

''I am incapable of doing such a thing, for it is not my mutant power.''

Remy sighed again. ~Metaphors, mon ami, metaphors.~ ''At least I got y' lookin' up now. Now, let's go downstairs. Steamy black coffee awaits. Oh, an' an eager t' talk professor. I get a feelin' we're gonna get more family counselin' den we'll ever ask f'r.'' He paused. ''Xavier has dat stupid habit. Talkin', I mean. He wants t' talk 'bout everythin'. Me, I like t' talk, so long as I don' have t' say nothin'. By de way...''

''Let us go downstairs before I decide to put and end to your rambling. Permanently.''

''I just love dat direct approach o' y'rs.'' Other than that last remark and smile, Remy remained silent until they reached the kitchen.

''Mornin', everybody.''

''Wow, an actual living Cajun at breakfast, quick! grab a camera! This may be our last chance.'' Evan cheered. 

Ignoring the remarks made, Remy went to the coffee mug and sniffed at it.

''Who's tryin' t' poison me every morning' wid dis decaf stuff?''

''I happen to like it.'' Jean said a bit annoyed. 

''Well, dis poison certainly is makin' Bishie's job here a lot easier.'' In one sudden movement a firm hand grabbed his throat in a somewhat unfashionable way and slammed his head to the nearest wall.

''Do not call me Bishie.''

''A for clarity, F minus f'r subtlety.'' Remy managed to say even though he was choking.

''Bishop, release him.'' Xavier interrupted sternly. ''Remy, when you've finished breakfast, you will both come to my study. We are going to have a talk.''

Remy, for what may have very well been the first time in his life, ate breakfast. Slowly, very, very slowly. On purpose. He actually wanted breakfast to become brunch, then lunch, then linner, then dinner and then midnight snack. He did not want to talk to anyone today, at all. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

While walking to the study a song hit Remy's mind. The funeral march. ~Merde.~ Not a very comforting song to have running around in your head. ~But I don' have t' worry. I can charm Xavier, just like de first time, into lettin' it go an' not ask any questions.~ A smug smile appeared on his face.

Bishop opened the door and they both entered. ~Showtime.~

Logan, Xavier and Hank were in the study. ~Hmm. Xavier had a change o' strategy I see. De more people in de room, de less chance f'r me to get out o' de conversation. Check, mon proffeseur, y' got m'.~

''Sit down, Remy.'' The sternness in his voice was actually worrying the Cajun. ~He's not gonna let anythin' slip, is he. Merde.~ ''Last name LeBeau.'' Xavier added, not really a question, more an affirmation.

''Dat's what Bishop keeps shoutin' 'round, non?''

''First things first, who is Damien Black?'' Xavier inquired.

''Use dat name f'r business.''

''What business?'' Logan asked.

''_My_ business.'' ~Damned if I tell y'.~ 

''Who were those men at the restaurant, the ones that were looking at Kurt and me with disgust in their faces?'' Hank asked.

''Yeah, bub, they were terrified of you.'' After the adult's little chat yesterday Xavier, Hank, Logan and Storm (who would arrive later) decided that the more people were present at the questioning, the less chance Remy had to talk himself out of it. Their theory proved right.

''Dey're jus' a coupl' o' idiots. Dey don' like mutants much, but dey know not t' mess wid me.''

''You mean with Damien Black.'' Xavier said.

''I mean wid de Cajun dat can let de clothes on deir bodies explode.'' ~An' dey know what dat feels like.~ Remy smiled inwardly. ~Up close an' personal.~

''You are a thief.'' Hank stated.

''I like shiny things.'' ~I'm a Master Thief, thank you very much.~

''Care to elaborate?''

~Non. But you're workin' togeder an' y'r not gonna let it go 'less I talk.~ ''Dat's what thieves do, cher. Dey see somethin' shiny dey like, dey take it. What's a lock gonna do to prevent it?''

''Burglary.'' Xavier established.

''Non! Never!'' Remy pretended to be offended.

''But you just said it.''

''Oui. I jus' prefer de term breakin' an' enterin'. Sounds better, non. Got more style.''

Storm entered the study. Remy did not like this, not one bit. ~Dis is gettin' more an' more difficult.~ ''We started widout y', Stormy, but don' worry, we save de best for last.''

''Do not call me the ridiculous nick name.'' She was not in the mood for witty comments. 

Next, Scott, Jean, Rogue, Kurt, Kitty and Evan entered the now pretty packed room as well. ''Is dere a party I didn't know 'bout?' ~An' check mate, Xavier. You win. I lose. Shoot m' already.~

''Lets return to the conversation, shall we.'' Xavier resumed.

''Lets not.'' Remy answered irately, not liking the attention he was getting at all. ''Lets just cut t' de point. Yes, I'm a thief. Or was, actually, I sort o' unofficially quit when I joined y'. Now why don' we cut de crap 'bout me an' dose li'l details, an' start interviewin' Bishop here, he be de real problem.'' He turned to the man. ''When's de presiden t gon' try an' pass dat law?''

''A few days from now, I suppose.''

''What be de trigger? He not gonna sit in his office one mornin' an' think 'Hey, let's pass a law!'.''

''A ravishing fire caused by a mutant. There were many human casualties.''

''An' den what happens?''

''Xavier will meet with the president, try to talk him out of passing the registration law. He will succeed. But not all humans are too happy about it, and a few started the FOH, the front of humanity. I believe you did fight them. But soon after that LeBeau killed you.''

''Who would he have killed us for? The FOH?'' Hank found it hard to believe.

''After the murder, the war rose, with Xavier out of the way, Magneto could do whatever he pleased. Perhaps LeBeau worked for him.''

''Doubt it. I don' even know Magneto.'' Remy said.

''How do we know that?'' Scott accused.

''Cos I'm tellin' y'.'' Remy was getting irritated by Scott, again.

''We're supposed to trust a thief. That's a good one.'' 

''We're supposed to trust a team-mate.'' Rogue told him, not entirely sure why she was speaking in Remy's defense.

''We could let the Professor enter his mind and know for sure.'' Jean proposed.

''No one's gonna go inside my mind.''

''Why, what have you got to hide?'' Scott again, and his annoying accusations. 

''Dere's nothin' in m' head dat would interest you, trust me.''

''That is the one thing I don't think I ever will.''

''You won' fin' nothin'.''

''That's a double negative, Gambit. We could find hidden information or a secret agenda.''

''Ah, m' secret agenda.'' He took a little black notebook from one of his pockets. ''Let's see. Here it is. Get groceries, wash car, betray and kill x-men, dinner at La Place at nine. How could I forget.'' He looked accusingly at the people in the room. ''As much as I hate t' admit it, y'r m' family. A disturbed weird family, but a family non de less. Now, I might be a thief, an' I know thieves don' score very high in de moral department, but I'd never betray y'.''

''You almost sound as if you care.'' Bishop said almost mockingly. 

''I do care.'' ~Some, at least.~

''I asked you about the X-men once,'' Bishop began. ''in the future. To see if you cared about them, if you felt sorrow or sadness that they were gone. To get some sort of answer out of you. 'Nor black nor white ever did suit me.' That was your answer. You always spoke in riddles, leaving me in the dark most of the times. But white is the color of innocence and black is for sorrow. You said you had neither. What have you got to say to that?''

''What's greater than God, more evil than the Devil, the poor have it, the rich want it and if you eat it, you'll die?'' ~Call me de Riddler an' dress m' in green.~ 

''What?''

''Think 'bout it.''

''I believe it is best if we wait until the events Bishop told us start. Maybe we'll find a proper solution then.'' Xavier interrupted.

''I know a proper solution right now.''

''I mean a proper solution that will not involve violence.''

''Dat be nice. Can I go now?'' Remy was eager to leave the room.

''Trying to escape, Gambit? Like the lowly petty thief you are.'' Scott accused.

~Lowly? Petty?~ '''F only mon pere could hear y', homme. Dey'd never find y'r body.'' ~Did I say dat out loud? Oops.~

''So, you _are _ thinking of killin us!''

''Just you, Cycke. But don' take it personal. I have strong urges to kill all connards.''

''You're an idiot fuck-up!''

''Scott!'' Xavier shouted. But he was completely ignored.

''So says de guy who sees Picasso's 'Tragedy' as a mix o' purple mush.''

''What?!''

''Sorry, next time I insult y', I try t' stick t' your level. Lemme try: You're a four-eyed asshole. Clear?''

''Piss off.''

''My pleasure.'' And with that he stormed out of the room.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He sat there, on the roof. He always did that, ever since he was a young boy. Roofs were nice, quiet, and up high, far away from everything. He hadn't come down for lunch or dinner, he hadn't come down at all. He just sat there, just him and his thoughts. 

''Ah'm sorry.'' 

~Dat does _not _ sound like a thought.~ He turned around to the window. Rogue. He tried one of his winning smiles, but couldn't manage, so he simply asked ''What for?''

''Scott.''

''Why? You raise him?''

''Not really.''

''Den don' be sorry.'' He went back to staring at nowhere in particular. 

''Come on inside, you'll fall off.''

''I'm a thief, chere. Roofs are m' second nature.''

''You mean you _were_ a thief. You're one of us now.''

''Dis is jus' a temporary change o' occupation. In de end, I'm a thief, always was always will be.'' He actually sounded saddened. She barely recognized him as the arrogant Cajun. She feared she was starting to like him even better. ~Should Ah stay here, or should Ah go outside?~

''Chere, I been thinkin'.'' She gave him a big-eyed look. ''I'm bein' serious, Rogue.''

''And Ah'm being seriously stunned.''

''Y'r stunnin', but dats not de point here. I been thinkin', maybe I should leave.''

''No! You're with us, you belong here. You can't let Scott or Bishop...''

''What if he's right?''

''What do you mean? Bishop is mistaken, you know that.''

''We don' know de future. He does.''

''Are you saying you'd kill us? Never!''

''Never say never, chere. Learned dat a long time ago.''

''If you leave, you'll only prove Bishop is right.''

She received a silent affirmation. Well, she assumed it was an affirmation. She hoped it was an affirmation. 

''Come here, chere. Sit down.'' She did.

''Wow, the moon is beautiful tonight.''

''She is.'' He said. From the corner of her eyes, Rogue could see Remy looking at her. She smiled.

''I mean the moon, silly. Up there.'' 

''Dat's what I say. De moon, she a true belle. She has de most beautiful green eyes in de world.''

''Don't do that.''

''Do what?'' He feigned innocence.

''Flirt.''

''Why not? You like it.''

''I can't.''

''Y'can' flirt? It's easy, chere. Y' just say: Oh, Remy you're de greatest...''

''Just don't flirt with me, okay.''

''Whatever you say, chere. But dat don' make y'r eyes less beautiful.'' She hadn't noticed him sitting closer to her every second.

''Don't come near me.'' She didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, but it did.

''Now, why can' I come close t' such a nice-lookin' girl?''

''Don't you understand what happens when Ah touch people? Doesn't it get into your thick skull? Ah could kill you!'' Remy simply looked at her, not moving away. ''Remy, Ah hate people being near me. Ah can't stand it! And you're just _there_ all smug and making it worse.'' She paused for a while. ''Sometimes Ah just wish Ah...''

''Hey, chere. I was de one bein' depressed here. Y'r stealin' m' lead part.''

''Sorry.'' She stood up.

''Stay. C'm here.'' She sat down again and than it happened. He hugged her. Just like that. And she hugged him back. There they sat. Together. Hugging. Rogue couldn't think of a better way of spending her time. Neither could Remy, as a matter of fact.

''You're kinda okay, you know.'' She said after a while.

He smiled a rather fake smile. ''Dat's 'cause y'don' know m', chere.''

She sighed. ''Your not really making much of an effort to get us to trust you, are you?''

''No one's gonna listen t' a thief anyway.'' He said wryly.

''Maybe, but you have to try.''

He didn't answer immediately. She could almost hear him think. 

''I'll stay. Y' happy now?'' He didn't sound very convinced of himself.

''I'm not entirely cheerless at the moment.'' She said in an attempt to get the gloom-and-doom look off his face.

''Y' sound like Hank.'' He smiled a genuine smile, she had succeeded.

''You coming in with me?''

''I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request.'' He said, tightening his grip on her.

''Ah thought you might.'' 

For ten minutes that seemed like eternity they sat there. Then he let go to lit up a cigarette.

~Damned habit.~ Rogue thought ''You know, smoking will kill ya.''

''Don' worry, chere. I got in on good authority dat I'm gon' outlive every one o' y'.''

''Right. Not if Bishop can help it.''

''Thanks for de remainder.'' He sighed as he put a tiny charge on the cigarette and threw it away, letting it explode in mid-air.

''Sorry.'' She waited a while and added. ''Maybe if you would be a bit more open, they would trust you. Maybe you should let them...''

''You trust m'?'' He put his arm around her. 

''I don' know. I'd like to.'' She almost said I like you. But she swallowed the words and hid it well. She thought.

''I like y' too, chere.''

Silence struck again.

''Aren't you going to say one of those cheesy lines of yours?''

''Nah, I'm enjoyin' de holdin' you bit too much.''

A/N God, I can be corny when I want to. In fact, if I were any cornier, I would be popcorn…I don't think that made any sense whatsoever at all. Good. That's the way I like it. Btw, did you solve the riddle? 

On next: A fighting scene? An action-packed chapter? An intellectually challenging episode? A chapter that would make Dante grovel at my feet? Nah. Just some more plotty madness.

Review and I shall prevail. 


	9. Boredom made me chew the twig

Disclaimer: Okay, I admit, I used your characters.*shrug * Sue me. No wait, don't! *pfew* Almost lost it there…

Ishandahalf Who-ho! When I feel heavy metal! Who-ho! And I'm pins and I'm ne…Sorry for that…Thanx for the gold stars! Who-ho!

???HarleyQuinn??? Riddle: correct. The comment: Thanx.

Anime addicted Yeahhey! Thank you once again for reading and reviewing my little madness fic.

Leann And I'm hopelessly in love with reviews. So thanx!

Kitrazzle Fayn Lovely dance. Really. And yes, that was the correct answer. 

Rogue Warrior Spirit Definitely a lot of fluff. The answer is 'nothing' but, hey, love and nothing have a lot in common. Thanx so much and I hope you'll continue your stay in this train.

A/N Are you ready for a good and non-avoiding chappie? Yes? Than read something else… 

9. We were bored so we threw gasoline on the brush-fire and now we have stumps for arms and no eyebrows 

Fissie

''Ah, Gambit. You have finally decided to come down to the land of the living.''

''Oui.''

''Xavier, now dat it be out in de open, can I have a li'l chat wid y'.'' He sounded serious. Very serious.

''Of course.''

''It's 'bout y'r security system...How do I put it nicely?...It sucks. It be terrible. It got more holes dan Swiss cheese.'' 

Xavier smiled. Take it from a thief to make comments about your security system. ''What do you suggest?''

''Y' let me take a look at it. I can...'' 

''Remy,'' He said reassuringly. ''I really don' think that will be necessary.''

''Professor, ''Remy said firmly. ''What y got now is a big green neon sign saying 'Rob Me Now. Take What You Can. I Am Rich And Confident.' Bad idea, 'f y' ask m'.''

Was it really that bad? ''And you can do what exactly.''

''Fix it f'r y'. Install an better one. Get it goin'. Get it waterproof. Well almost, anyway.'' Xavier frowned and Remy explained. ''I still be able t' get in, but hey, I installed it, I think I be entitled t'some privileges. Sides, y' can' keep me out. I'm good.''

The young man seemed proud of it. ''I strongly get the feeling you are not just some petty thief. Are my suspicions correct?'' 

''Ask me bout dat time in Fort Knox someday. Meanwhile, y'wan it? I do it f'r y'. Tomorrow mornin', first thin'. Bishop will watch m' back, naturally. So I won' do nothin' bad.''

''Very well, I will give you the code to the security...but that would probably not be necessary, right?''

''Probably not.'' He shrugged and left. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

_Morning, about 8 am._

Cerebro went berserk, again. 

''This is it. Cerebro found high mutant activity in the center of New York. No doubt this is the activity Bishop spoke of.'' Xavier said.

''What are we waitin' for? Let's go.''

''Gambit, it is best if you and Bishop stay here.''

''I will not let him escape, sir.''

''Y' borin' me, y' know.''

''We don't want to cause more panic than there already is. Storm, you and Jean will come with me. The rest of us will stay here. We will try to get the mutant and the crowd to calm down.''

''An' I'll get dat security system f'r y'.''

''I thought you said first thing in the morning.''

''Coffee is always first, so it be de second thing in de mornin'. Shoot m'.'' He shrugged.

After having acquired and fixed up the security system, Remy and Bishop, who was naturally by his side, went to the kitchen. Kurt was watching the news, while eating a hamburger. 

The television showed a not too old, tall man with gray hair talking into the cameras. ''What has happened this morning is terrible, and what is worse, it can happen again. Mutants are dangerous. That is a fact we knew already but it has become much more clear now. We must register them. I have spoken to the president, and he will...''

''It has begun.'' Bishop stated sadly. 

~Dat man, he looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?~

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Xavier study_

''We have done what we can. But the fear of mutants is running deep. I will talk to the president this afternoon.''

''He has been able to schedule you in on such short notice?''

''I must admit I might have used my gift in a less that moral manner. But I must talk to him imminently. If the idea of a mutant registration law can be prevented, we might not have to deal with our other problem.'' He glanced at Remy. 

Remy looked up seriously. ''If we kill de president, he won' be able t' pass de law at all.''

Angry glares were directed his way. ~I should really stop thinkin' 'loud.~

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_The rec. room_

Bishop was cleaning his rifle in the far corner of the rec. room, while the students were picking a game to play to kill time while the professor and Storm were visiting the president.

''Poker.'' Remy suggested.

''Yeah right. I'm totally not playing poker with a guy that uses cards to, like, charge and explode.'' Kitty said.

''Twister.'' Kurt proposed.

''Forget it!'' Rogue didn't even want to think of having her body close to others.

''Monopoly.'' Jean said convinced that it was a good choice.

''Only 'f I can be bank.'' Remy did not like Monopoly.

''No way. I'm not letting a thief be the banker.'' Scott said. He liked Monopoly. Okay, maybe not monopoly, but he liked Jean.

''Den no way we playin' monopoly.''

''How about we shoot some hoop.'' Evan suggested.

''It's raining Evan.'' Jean said.

''So?''

''No.'' Scott said gruffly. 

''Spin de bottle.'' ''Truth or dare.'' The two comments were made at the same time by Remy and Rogue respectively. 

''How about a combination. One has to spin the bottle and whoever it's pointing to has to choose truth or dare.'' Evan said.

''Fine wid me. I'll get de bottle.''

After five minutes Remy came back juggling an empty bottle of wine. ~Recently emptied by yours truly, mon ami.~

''I get first spin!'' Jean yelled in excitement as she stood up and practically ran into Remy.

''Den I get de first kiss.'' He said holding the bottle behind his back and putting his face more closely to her level. Jean giggled, kissed him on the cheek and got the bottle. Scott was not amused. Remy was. ~Po' boy. Madly in love an' madly shy. Just like Jean. Bad combination 'f y' ask m'. Dey need a little push in de right direction.~ He had enjoyed the flirting with Jean a lot. 

Jean spun the bottle on the table and it stopped pointing at Kitty.

''Truth or dare?''

''Truth.''

''Is it true that you still sleep with a teddy bear?''

''...''

''You have to answer.''

''Alright already, yes. Like whatever. Don't stare at me.'' The group laughed. ''My turn.''

Kitty spun and it stopped pointing at Evan.

''Truth or dare?''

''Dare.''

''I dare you to, like, steal Wolverine's cigars.''

Evan was silent for a while. 

''He's chicken.'' Kurt laughed.

''I am not! Wait here.''

He came back after ten minutes with the cigars. 

''See I stole them. Now can I return them? I don't want to be impaled before dinner.''

''Stealin' involves not returnin', mon ami.''

''Great...My turn.''

The bottle ended pointing at Remy.

''Truth or dare?''

''Truth.''

Evan was a bit disappointed. He had thought of a great dare. Now he had to come up with a question. ~Got it.~ ''What's the most valuable thing you've ever stolen?''

Remy smiled. ''Most valuable f'r me or most valuable cost-effectively speakin'?''

~Huh?~ ''Both?''

''F'r me, m' faders wallet. Stealin' dat, mon ami, was priceless.'' He smiled. ''Cost-effectively, 'The Willow', painted by Van Gogh in Nuenen, November 1885.''

''Why?'' Jean asked.

''Dat's anoder question an' it ain' y'r turn.'' Remy said, smiling because he had successfully avoided the question 'What is the most valuable thing you've ever stolen, period. In dollars.' That issue was private, for Guild-members only. Besides, it concerned a certain diamond that was still on the top ten most-wanted list. Remy was not about to be caught because of a game of 'Truth or Dare'. 

Meanwhile the bottle pointed at Scott. ~Good. Now f'r de small, subtle push in de right direction.~

''Truth or dare, mon ami.''

''Dare.'' Scott said bravely. Not actually feeling so brave at all. Knowing Remy, he knew he was going to be asked to do something embarrassing or repulsive.

''I dare y', homme, t' kiss Jean. A proper kiss, not jus some peck on de cheek, eh.'' ~ Okay, maybe not so sublte, but if dis don' work, I'll shoot him.~

Scott turned as red as his visor as he looked at Jean. She was as red as her hair. ~Lets get this over with.~ he thought

They kissed.

''Eh...Scott...You can stop now. I think you passed de challenge.''

''Homme? Ey! Homme! Wake up!''

Scott woke up from the trance. He gazed in Jean's eyes, and she gazed back.

''Get a room or spin de bottle, yar choice.'' Rogue voice was icy cold as she pushed the bottle into his hands. 

Jean blushed again as Scott spun the bottle and it landed by Jean. Not entirely by chance. 

''Truth or dare.'' He asked.

''Dare.'' She said giving him her most flirtatious look.

''Do you dare going out with me on a date?'' He said a bit stiff.

''Yes.'' She smiled.

''Good.'' He smiled back at her. And so they stared at each other again. 

~Mon Dieu, sorry f'r ever meddlin' between dose two. Now I'm gon' be stuck watching mushiness twenty-four-seven.~

''Eh...Jean. You can, like, spin the bottle now.''

''Oh, right...''

After a short spin, the bottle pointed at Remy. 

~How convenient.~ ''Chere, y'r not usin' telekinesis are y'?''

''It's not your turn to ask a question, Gambit. Truth or dare.''

''Truth.'' He knew the question that would come.

''Why was that painting cost-effective?'' 

''Well,'' he paused for a second ''She be worth 'bout 350,000 dollars, not too much, dat true. But she be real nice an' not too big, 'bout 42 by 30 centimeters, so it's not too difficult to take 'way. She not too famous eider, dat makes it easy t' sell. An' dere were many buyers, so I sold it f'r more dan its estimated value. 'Sides, I was in Holland f'r some oder business at de time anyway, so I saved on travel expenses. Plus she was stored at a bank, not in a museum, which is always better. An' I like de paintin', although van Gogh is not m' favorite, dat one's nice. Simple but nice. Oil on canvas. A true belle.''

He got stares at the explanation he gave in one breath. He grinned at it and spun the bottle. It pointed at Rogue. 

''Truth or dare, chere.''

''Truth.'' She said, knowing that if she said dare he would choose something repulsive.

''What's y'r name? Y'r real name, ey.''

Of all the awful questions she could think of, she did _not_ expect that question. ''Non of your damn business!'' she sneered.

''Dat's a funny name, chere. Y'r parents were hippies?''

''Get lost!''

''It's just a question chere. You chose de game, now answer de question.''

''Fuck off!'' She stood up and ran out.

''Well if I had a name like dat, I wouldn't want people t' know it eider!'' He shouted after her.

''So says ze guy wiz a girls name. My turn.''

''It's Rogue's turn.''

''Ja, but she isn't here now, and I vaz sitting next to her.'' He spun the bottle and it landed at Kitty. The game continued, but Remy wasn't really feeling like playing anymore. He had upset the girl. ~Come on, Remy, y' know y' upset her. Dats why y' asked her dat question.~ That was true, but now that he had done that, he felt like a bit of a jerk. And he doubted anyone would argue that with him. 

He stood up and headed for the door.

''Hey. Like, where are you going?'' Kitty asked in a friendly way, while Bishop looked up and frowned at him.

''Scuse me, petite. But I think m' bodyguard here needs some fresh air. Come on, Bishop, time f'r y'r daily walk.'' He left and Bishop followed. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

They found Rogue sitting in a tree. 

''Could y' stay here f'r a second? I wan' talk to her.'' He grabbed a small twig that was lying in the grass. ''Here, y' can chew on dis.'' He flashed a smile and silently walked towards her.

''I do not find that amusing.''

''Hey chere.''

''Go away.'' She sounded real mad.

''No can do, chere.''

''You know, whatever my name is, Ah am sure it's _not_ 'chere'.''

''Come on down.'' He pleaded.

''No.''

''Sorry f'r askin' dat question, chere. I jus' can' believe why y' won' tell anyone.''

''Well why didn't you tell anyone your last name was LeBeau?''

~Y' got me.~ He sighed. ''Cos I didn't wan' anyone t' know.''

''Your not the only one.'' She said plainly. 

''I understand. Sorry, Rogue.''

''It's alright.'' She sounded nicer now. 

''Den why you still up dere.'' He even dared to smile now.

''Ah'm waiting for you to join me. You seem to like high-up places. I dare you to climb this tree.'' She mocked and smiled back at him. 

He climbed to a branch near the one she was sitting on with more ease than she had expected.

''Nice view, chere.'' He said while looking at her.

She couldn't help but smile some more. ''Where's Bishop?''

''Chewing a twig.'' He pointed at Bishop sitting in the grass. 

After that they both sat and simply enjoyed the view.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The professor had come back early that evening. He and Storm did not look happy at all. The president had not been as forthcoming as they had hoped and Xavier refused to manipulate him any further. It would not be good for their cause at all. 

Now it was time for further measures. If Bishop was right they'd have to prepare for serious battle. That is why she had to talk to Gambit.

''Wher' y'at, Stormy?'' He greeted her as she stepped into the rec. room. 

''Do not call me that, boy.''

''I take it, it don' go to good den?''

''I do not believe we have convinced the president at all. That is actually why I was looking for you.''

''F'r me, chere. Now what you wan' wid po' ole Remy?'' He looked at her seductively. 

''You need a uniform.''

''Say what?''

''A uniform. In the few weeks you've been with us, nothing big happened, so it has not been necessary for you, but now with these threats...I have one here for you.'' She handed him a box. He opened it.

''Look's like Cycke's stupid work-out outfit.'' He said in disgust.

''It's almost the same, but yours is slightly larger.''

He handed gave the box back to her. ''Thanks, but no thanks. I can go out like dis. Ruin m' style.''

''Gambit, we're a team. These are team-clothes.''

''Y' wan' me t' wear dis?'' She nodded. 

He sighed and shook his head. "'F we can' beat dem, w'll sure as hell freak dem."

A/N 'The Willow' by van Gogh has actually been stolen on the 14th of May in 1999, from a bank in Den Bosch, Holland, if I remember correctly… Oh, and sorry for the Scott/Jean thing…but hey, cheer up, Remy got to be the nice guy for a change.

On next: Will Remy wear that stupid suit? Will there be a fight? Will I make up more fight-scene excuses? You better believe it.

Review and I'll cross the oceans and rivers of deliverance to continue the story. (Where on earth did _that _ come from?)


	10. Hacking has nothing to do with a axe

Disclaimer: I got my hair, got my nose, got my fingers, got my toes, got my eyes, got my…well, you get the idea. I don't got these characters.

Anime Addicted Good. It was supposed to be blah, blah, blah, because the whole Scott Jean thing is blah blah blah. I mean, I don't like em either, but, I don't know, I got tired of writing Scott being jealous. Besides, now Remy can focus on Rogue some more. Just remember that I will never do a blah blah blah thing to Remy and Rogue. I think.

Ishandahalf A woman? I think he need a shrink and a nice set of soft stumpy crayons. 

Lonewolf *muffles huge grin away coughing* You devious character, shame on you. And thank you, but I think I'll stay on this side of the river and just shout the story to you…it's saver than a rowboat. (And sorry if I forgot to answer your previous review. It was not intented.)

Leann Thanx. It _is _ a series, isn't it. Wow, I've created something consistent. 

Forgotten Havok … Okay … you're a bit …er … scary, and I mean that in the best and nicest possible way. I think you liked the story, *sigh of relief * that's good, read more, be patient and don't kill me or anything…

A.M.bookworm247 With the suit and the being pushed around Remy's being a real po' boy. And as for including history in my story: *Long evil laugh * and I'm not finished yet…*Some more evil laugh* *choke*

A/N Alrighty all ye lads and lasses, get ready for another (long) chapter. It may not be a very progressive chapter, but they are scenes I thought of and just had to include…hope you like it.

****************************************

_10. A sucking chest wound is nature's way of telling you to slow down._

Fissie

Another disturbing start of another otherwise perfect day. Remy sat on a chair in his room looking at the uniform that was spread on the bed. He sighed. No way on earth he was going to wear that. It would make him look like a Scott clone. A better looking, taller one, but still a clone. He thought of his options. One, not wearing it. Good for image, good for style, not good for staying on the team. Two, accidentally burn it. Good, until they get a new one. Besides, he had the feeling this suit wouldn't burn that easily. Three, wearing it. He shuddered. ~Not an option.~ Four...he took his green duffel bag from under his bed, took out his old suit and placed it on the bed. He stared at both outfits. ~To wear or not to wear. Shall I wear dat stupid "X marks y'r shot" costume, or should I wear m' old Thieves suit: comfy, better lookin', protectin', worn in. Oh de horrors dat come wid decision makin'.~ He grinned. ''Bishop? Care f'r a demonstration o y'r gun?'' He waved the Scott-look-a-like suit around on his left hand. ''I got a pigeon right here.''

''I do not believe we should do that.'' Bishop said looking up.

''Should? non, would? probably, like? maybe, love? sure as hell.''

Bishop remembered those words. LeBeau had spoken them before, many times before, when he was just a child. Life with a thief had not always been unpleasant. 

''Come on,'' Remy continued. ''I throw it out the window, y' shoot it. Y need t' blow off some steam. Fun times. On count o' three.''

''Why wait for three?'' A weird look spread across Bishop's face. The gun made that particular sound Gambit knew all too well.

''Hey! Wait 'till I throw it!'' He threw it. 

The second the suit was out of the Cajun's hand, Bishop blasted it to a million slightly burning pieces

''Fun times indeed, LeBeau.''

Remy was stunned. ''Y' _do_ need t' blow off some steam. Come wid me, I got somethin' t' show y'. It's a little place called de Danger Room. Y'r gonna love it.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Two hours later Remy walked in on Storm in her greenhouse. Happy and alone. 

'''Ello Stormy.''

''Do not call me that.'' She gave him a determined look and shoved a watering can in his hands. ''Where is Bishop?''

''M' appendix is currently exercisin' in de Danger Room, chere.'' He placed the can on a small table. She took the can again and shoved it back in his hands.

''Make yourself useful.'' She said calmly. 

''Why don' y' jus' let it rain in here?''

''I learned to use my powers only when necessary. Controlling the weather is not child play.'' He shrugged and started watering the roses. ''Did you try on the uniform?''

''Dat's what I came here for. I ain' wearin' it. Got m' own.''

She looked up to him. ''Your own? Oh, but I don't think...''

''Chere, y' can' make m' look like a Cycke-clone. Have a heart.'' Remy pleaded ''De uniform I got is jus' fine. Worked f'r me so far. Come on, Stormy.'' He put a look on his face he knew was non-resistible. 

''Very well, but if you call me Stormy one more time, I will personally see to it that your hair will be cut like Scott's, and I shall not use scissors, my friend.''

Remy could have sworn he saw lightning flash in her eyes. He wisely decided to shut up and water the plants. He liked his hair, and his life.

Remy was amazed at the amount of plants in the greenhouse. Plants, flowers, very nice, very useless. Then he spotted a mint plant. He brushed his hand through it and sniffed.

''It does smell nice, doesn't' it.'' Storm smiled.

''Reminds o' Mint Julep. Dat's a drink I used t' make back in New Orleans. Mint an' bourbon make a good combination.'' 

''I'm sure.'' She sighed and shook her head. The boy was never going to grow up. 

''Know some fine Egyptian recipes wid mint as well.'' He said casually.

''You do?''

''I like t' eat local food when I travel.''

''You've been to Egypt?''

''Oui, Cairo. Y' were born dere, non?'''

Storm raised an eyebrow. ''Yes, but I do not recall having told you.''

''De walls got ears 'round here, chere.''

She looked at him with unbelieve. ''You mean you have checked our personal files.''

''Same thin' non?''

''Hardly.'' She sounded serious but she was smiling. How could she be mad at such a radiant young man.

''Al dis talk 'bout mint made me thirsty. Wan' somethin' too?''

''No, I'll be all right. And thank you for helping me water the plants.''

''Y'r welcome. Y' let me get some o' dose spices 'f I need dem someday?''

''Of course. I hope some day soon, if you are planning on cooking.''

''Maybe. Dis house is in desperate need o' some good Cajun food, ma petite tempête. ''

A cold chilly wind accompanied him to the door of the greenhouse. He waved her goodbye.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Wolverine was fixing his bike when Remy came into the garage. 

''She don' sound too good.'' 

''I know.''

''Need help?''

''I'm fine.''

''Whatever.'' He walked over to the Cabinet Formerly Known As Wolverine's Secret Stash Of Liquor, took out an open bottle of wiskey and a glass, filled it and sat on his own bike. Wolverine was so concentrated on his current job, that he didn't even notice it (or at least he didn't seem to care about it.)

''Y' sure y' wan' t' be doin' dat? I think y' better...''

''Look kid, shut up. I don't need your advice.''

A slight sizzling sound came from the bike. 

''Fuck.''

''Mind your language, Wolverine.'' Scott said. ~Scott?~ This was odd. Logan smelled Remy but he heard Scott. The only logical conclusion was swiftly found: Mystique. She must have found a way to smell just like the one she imitated as well. He turned around and slammed the body into the wall.

''Hey, don' wrinkle de shirt.''

''Drop it, Mystique.''

''Who? Y' mean de funny lookin' lady dats wid Magneto? I didn't think I looked like her.''

The sharp claws came nearer to his chest. Wolverine was getting feral.

''Logan, I ain' Mystique, I jus' do a good impression o' Four-eyes, non?'' The claw was cutting him. 

''Can' y' smell I ain' Mystique, homme? No lady perfume. Well, cept Stormy's maybe, but I swear I didn't do anythin' wid her dat could be regarded illegal in any o' de 50 states.''

~Stormy? No one does that except the Cajun.~ He stepped away. The Cajun was bleeding. 

''Fuck. Look what y' done. Y' got grease all over m' best shirt.''

''That worn out, torn, old shirt is your best?''

''Dis worn out, torn, old, Armani shirt is m' best. Merde, y' ruined it.'' He looked down at his battered shirt and noticed.'' _An _ I'm bleedin'. Connard. Not everyone has healin' factor y'know.''

''It's just a shallow wound.'' 

''It's bleedin', dat's what it is, ol' man.''

He took off his shirt muttering some more curses. Logan noticed scars that ran down his chest and stomach. They looked awfully familiar to him.

''I knew it.'' Wolverine growled.

''Say what homme?'' He started folding the shirt, decided it was useless, stopped folding it and threw it in in the trash can.

''You don know Sabertooth. Those scars.'' Looking at them more closely, Logan realized that the wounds must have been pretty serious to leave such scars. 

''Oh, dose.'' He looked at the scars as if it was the first time he saw them. ''Guess he wanted to make Cajun haggis, non?'' he grinned.

''What happened?''

''Nothin' much. His path cross mine, his claws crossed m' stomach. Shit happens.'' He said casually. '' Lemme take a look at de bike.''

Logan didn't like the way the kid acted one bit. But he decided not to continue asking about Sabertooth. For now. ''We'll need to weld those, kid. In the cabinet by the...''

'' No need, mon ami. I got m' hands right here.'' Remy's hand glowed as he worked on the bike.

''Useful.''

''An' dey're a build in cigarette lighter too. Y' got a knife or somethin'?'' 

''You have a lighter I have a can opener.'' Logan said as he extended one of his claws and cut the wire that needed cutting. 

Remy laughed. ''Makes a body wonder why people are scared mutants. We're just a bunch o' can openers and cigarette lighters...Dere, she good t' go now.'' Logan nodded approvingly and even managed a bit of a smile-like facial expression as he looked up. At that very point in time his face turned into his usual glower. Make that worse than his usual glower. Much worse. ''Is that _my_ whiskey?'' He growled pointing at the bottle of whiskey and the half empty glass. 

''Might be. Well, gotta go check on Bishop. Bye.'' Quicker than lighting the Cajun took the glass and left the garage. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy entered the kitchen and found Jean and Scott there, kissing.

''Hey! Get a room will y'!'' He covered his eyes with his arm while walking to the fridge. ''I'm under aged y' know.'' He took a sip of the whiskey.

''Right...'' Scott started when Xavier's voice resonated in the kitchen.

''Everyone, please gather in the War-room.'' 

Xavier had called in yet another meeting. If Bishop was right, a group called the FOH should be formed shortly. Maybe they could prevent that from happening. He desperately hoped they could. Everyday they failed in preventing the future from happening was a day closer to Gambit's supposed betrayal. He could feel Bishop's determination in not letting that happen. They had to stop the FOH from forming before Bishop lost trust in their competence and killed Remy despite of his obvious doubts, considering that Remy will be the man he had called father. 

He stopped his trail of thoughts and paid attention to what Bishop was saying.

''...The man on the television was the FOH leader.''

''I have seen him before. His name is Robert Kramer.'' Xavier remembered. 

Remy's thoughts went in berserker mode. ~ Robert Kramer. Robert Kramer. Damn, I know him from somethin'. Gotta remember, come on, you Korsakov indulged brain. Think.~

''I remember only what I've heard from old stories told. He always appeared to be a concerned citizen. After convincing the president, he secretly started the FOH. Their connections didn't become apparent until after his death, when it became very apparent that he was _not_ just a concerned citizen.''

''But we do know he's connected now. We have an advantage.'' Evan pointed out.

''If Kramer connected to the FOH somehow, he has to have files, notes or an agenda or something about it somewhere.'' Scott gathered.

''Dat's a great plan. I could get into his house an'...'' Remy saw the look on Scott's face and smiled '' ...'commandeer' dose files f'r y', easy.''

''We can't risk being caught, Gambit. It would make mutants look worse.'' Xavier warned.

''Dat's why y'let _me_ do it. Den dere is no risk o' bein' caught.''

''You think very highly of yourself.'' 

''Dat's what a life time o' practice does to a body. It gets confident. It should. It's good.''

''A life time?'' Rogue asked.

''I kinda grew into it. Now will y' let me get de files f'r y' or are y' gonna get all Mr. Morality on m'? '' 

''You will go, but not alone. We cannot risk losing you out of sight.'' Xavier didn't want to believe Gambit would betray them, but he didn't want to provoke any situation to suspect him either. 

''I get it. But Bishop can' come.'' He looked over at Bishop. ''No 'fence cher, but dese things need a subtle touch, and y'r just...not.''

This was Rogue's chance. If she would volunteer for the job, she might get to know the Cajun a bit better. ~That would be nice.~ She opened her mouth to speak.

''Jean will accompany you.'' Xavier said. ''That way if anything is amiss she will be able to report to us immideatly, mentally.''

~Damn. And with Jean of all people. Damn.~

''Fine. 'S long as y' stay behind m', an' don' do anythin' stupid, fine. Now, were does de man live?''

''I have the address right here.'' Beast pointed at the computer screen. Remy walked over to him. 

''Dat's his house?'' he whistled. ''Nice.''

''Just remember your mission when you're there.'' Scott accused.

''Don' worry, 'f I see anythin' I like, I'll go back when everythin' is over.'' He directed himself to Jean and spoke seriously. ''Wear y'r uniform, I don' want loose clothes messin' 'round. I'm gonna see 'f I can find out 'bout de man's security system. Make de job a lot easier. We leave at two a.m. I have no idea how long it will take,'' and then he spoke directed mainly to Scott and Logan ''but better no one wake me up tomorrow mornin' at seven f'r Danger room practice. Come on, Bishop, we're gonna go to town, maybe I'll get y' a nice candy bar. See y' tonight, chere.'' 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy had gathered as much information he could find about the Kramer Residence security system. Not much. He knew the man was paranoid enough to install a very broad system. He had put on his old Thieves suit and walked down the stairs, meeting the people gathered downstairs. Evan, because he couldn't sleep. Scott, because he felt he should, being team-leader and all. Xavier, because he wanted to make some last remarks. Logan, because, well, because he was Logan. Bishop, for obvious reasons. And of course Jean.

Evan was the first to remark his outfit.

''Dude. It's...pink.'' He said in disgust.

''It's _magenta_, blue and black.'' Remy corrected.

''Right, Pinky.'' He snickered. 

Remy ignored the comment and put on his trench coat.

''Do you go anywhere without that stupid coat?''

''It goes wid de outfit. Y' don' like it? Y' can go stuff y'r boot up y'r...''

''Okay, Gambit. I'm ready to go.'' Jean interrupted. 

Xavier gave some last instruction that Remy ignored completely and they were good to go. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jean walked behind Remy in one of the mansion's corridors. She could barely see anything, so she had to trust Gambit to know what he was doing. Which seemed to be the case. Nothing bad had yet happened. "This seems awfully easy." It was true. Everything had gone well. They had suavely entered the mansion.

"Or maybe we're just too good f'r words." He looked back at her and raised an eyebrow.

''I just don't trust it.''

''Why? Cos we still haven't come across shooting lasers, wild three-headed dogs and raging humanoid robots?'' He shook his head and sighed ''Chere, y' spend to much time at de Danger Room.'' He took a card from one of his trench coat's pockets and charged it to create a bit of light. At that point Jean started wondering why she had to wear her tight uniform while Gambit's wore that loose trench coat of his. Knowing the Cajun she was starting to get a sneaking suspicion the reasons were less than completely professional. ~That damned Cajun with his infuriating...~ Her trail of thoughts was interrupted as she bumped into him. ''Hey, what are you stopping for?''

He walked toward the vase on the dressior. ''Shh.'' He motioned her.

He paused for a second and investigated the vase. ''Nevermind. It be fake. Let's move.''

She rolled her eyes. ''Can we stick to the mission, please.''

''Stop.'' He said suddenly. She gave him an odd look. He pointed to the floor. ''Infrared.'' 

''Great. Shall we check out other rooms first?''

''Non. Dat room at de end o' dis here hall gotta be it. Y'don'put infrared systems round de house for fun. Dat place got somethin'.''

''How do you plan on getting there?''

''Jus' sit back an' enjoy de show, chere. Dis Cajun has some tricks up his sleeve.''

Gambit took out his bo-staff and jumped over the infrared via a cabinet to the other side. Normal human beings were not supposed to be able to make that jump so fast and so subtle, Jean noted. Gambit opened the locked door with little effort and within seconds he came out again. 

''Clear. Y' can come here now.''

Jean entered the room. They searched for about thirty minutes.

''Damn. Can' find nothin'. Dere no hard copies. Well have t'hack de computer.''

''You can do that?''

''Sort of.''

''What do you mean, sort of?''

''I can do it.''

''Well, go on then.''

He turned the computer on. Instantly a message appeared on the screen. 

''Enter password. 1.'' Remy read as he stared at the screen. And stared, and stared.

''Well, Are you going to enter it with your eyes or are you going to do something about it?''

''Eh? Yeah, sure...Ah, here, press F1 for help.'' He pressed F1.

''What are you doing?'' Jean did not believe this. 

''What? So I was never very good at dis. Maybe I skipped one too many classes.''

''I don't believe this. You're supposed to be a great thief and you can't even hack Windows?''

''Shut up, alright. Lemme think.''

After about an hour of what his father would have called 'Hacking for Dummies', Remy found the files and the agenda they were looking for.

''Have you got it or should I order breakfast?''

''Got it.''

''Finally.''

''Hey, I don' see you doin' anythin'.''

She rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. ''Come on, lets get out of here...''

''Jus' a minute, chere.''

''What now?''

''Merde.''

She looked at the screen. ''No. Please say it isn't so. You're playing 'Hearts'?'' She looked more closely. ''You're loosing a game of 'Hearts'?'' She couldn't help but laugh.

''Shut up. I can' think like dis.'' He cursed in despair and pressed a few more buttons on the keyboard. ''Ha. I win.'' He looked at Jean who didn't know how or where to look. ''What? 'F y' can' beat dem, cheat.''

**************************************

A/N: Well, that was it for this week. I hope it's a bit clear, chapter wise. I might be a bit slower in updating the next two weeks because what with Christmas an New Year and all. So Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays and/or a Happy New Year. (I can't get more politically correct than that.)

On next: Will our heroes be able to prevent the FOH from forming? Will our heroes save the day? Will I ever stop laughing at the trailer from the new Pixar movie 'The Incredibles'? No. (You must go see it. You really must.)

Review or I'll include Britney Spears in my story… 


	11. Van Gogh's ear for music

Disclaimer: Ain't got no home, ain't got no shoes, ain't got no money, ain't got no class, ain't got no … you get the point. Ain't got no characters.

Caliente I know, I know, it's pathetic. But I'm building up to a grand finale, which by the way is coming sooner than I wanted it too, because of your review. I refuse to be a fluffy mushiness writer. So you win, here Remy-bashing by Rogue. Maybe I overdid it a bit…

Ishandahalf Thank you so much. But please, don't put any more bunnies on crack, really, it's getting crowded at Bunnies Anonymous… :o)

Sphinx 29 He-he…I mean, oops, sorry I made it pink…he-he. Anyway, thanx for still liking the story even though his suit is pink. 

Lonewolf Great idea, a huge pop-massacre! And everyone can join in! So, don't forget your chainsaw and samurai sword! And those sharp and pointy teeth…

Jazzyboo Thanx. I know I've taken a while, but waiting and patience are two good virtues and…what am I saying? Here's an update! (I usually update once every week.)

A/N Goodness gracious me, another chapter (and a long one, too). Hope you like my fight avoidance, it's a gift really.

*********************************************

_11. First try of a worst case scenario_

Fissie

Britney Spears walked up to the mansion: ''Oh, I wonder who lives here.'' She screeched. 

He-he, just kiddin'. Don't kill me...

11b. Second try of a worst case scenario 

Fissie

Right after having given the files to Xavier, Jean and Gambit stood in front of Jean's room. 

''Don' y'r companion in crime get a goodnight kiss?'' Remy said winking at Jean.

''I don't think so.'' A curt voice answered from behind him. 

Remy didn't even turn around. ''Hello, Cycke. Nice pajamas.''

''Hi, Scott.'' Jean said smiling. 

''How did it go?'' Scott asked in a much softer voice, most likely not directed to Remy. 

~Gotta go before dis gets too mushy.~ He turned around and walked away passed Scott. ''You two go t' sleep now, ey. Don' go doin' anythin' I would do.''

Remy wasn't really tired yet. He was walking down the corridor, to the window at the end of the hall, his stairway to the roof, when he spotted a light coming from one of the rooms. He knocked on the door.

''Who is it?'' came a sleepy voice from within.

The door opened and Remy stepped in. ''Hi, chere. We woke y'?'' 

Rogue looked up from her book. ''Yeah, actually.'' She yawned. ''Didn't Ah lock the door?'' To Remy's very surprise, she didn't sound very happy to see him.

''Oui.''

''How did it go?'' 

''Good.''

''Did you get your goodnight kiss?'' All the sleepiness was gone from her voice and she was not amused.

''Ey?'' ~She jokin', non?~

''From Jean.'' She said coldly. ~She serious.~ He sighed. ~Women.~

''Non, I didn't. But what 'f I did? Why should you care?'' ~Like I don' know.~

Rogue didn't expect those questions. ''Ah thought...Ah just...Never mind, all right. Leave me alone, all right? Ah'd like to finish reading.'' Rogue had reached irritation level number 10.

''What book you readin'?''

'''Go get yourself trampled over by a truck, by Getoutof Myroom ''

''Nice.'' Remy said realizing he'd have to go about this some other way.

''You should read it, it might give you ideas.''

''Can I sit? Promise I'll behave.'' He approached the bed installed himself on it.

''What exactly did Ah say that sounded even remotely like 'Yes'?''

''Body language, chere.''

She glared at him, and Remy swore that he saw poisoned darts coming from her eyes to his general direction.

''Y' look nice widout all dat makup, y'know.'' He said, and tried one of his winning smiles. 

''Wow, thanks. Ah'll never wear makeup again, now.'' Sarcasm dripping from every word she spoke.

''Why you mad?'' Remy pouted in that way he knew was irresistible. 

She exploded. ''Are! You idiot. Are! Why ARE you mad? Speak English for once in your life. You annoying moron! Get out!'' Remy was certain she was capable of killing him, right now, right there. The thought scared him a bit. So he tried his best.

''Why _are _ you angry with me? What is it I have done that does not receive your approval, dear?'' His English accent was pretty good for a speech impaired Cajun, Rogue had to admit. ''I assure you, the only reason I asked Jean for a goodnight kiss was because I knew Cycke was standin', I mean standing, behind me. You know I don' wan' no kiss from no one else but you, chere.''

''Do Ah?''

''Y'should.''

''You've got a death wish, then?''

''Maybe. Can' think o' a better way t' go, dat's f'r sure.'' He smiled at her. He was surprised when he realized he actually more or less meant what he was saying. He was actually falling for that girl. What an uncomfortable feeling to have when one is trying to flirt oneself out of a death threatening situation. ''Well, best I be goin' now. Goodnight, chere.'' He leaned in for a kiss and realized too late that she probably would kill him for doing that. He flinched half expecting her to slap him in the face. Instead, she put her hand on his mouth and kissed it. 

''Goodnight.'' She said. To her amusement Remy didn't come up with anything to say. He just smirked a bit more clumsily than usual and waved goodbye. She heard the lock of the door and smiled. Against better judgment of a great portion of her brain she had to admit that in some inexplicable way she liked that annoying Cajun.

Outside of her door stood one confused Acadian, who swore by everything he cared for that he would not ever in his life understand that, or as a matter of fact any, women. Ever.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Next day, morning, 10 o'clock._

''#...Somewhere I belong...#'' 

What power that may be was pissed at Remy LeBeau? For the umpteenth time since his arrival at the mansion his peaceful night rest was being disrupted. He tried to hide his face in his pillow. Useless. The music was too loud. 

''#...Somewhere I belong...#''

He checked the alarm clock, it was ten in the morning. Weren't all the kids supposed to be at school by now? ~Dieu. Why me? I've always been a good li'l thief...~

He got up and slumped to the source of all evil, the room where the music was coming from. He didn't even see what room it was.

He knocked on the door. No answer. He continued knocking, until knocking became banging and banging became slamming.

''Cut de fucking noise! Dere's people tryin' t' sleep!'' No answer came. He gave up slamming, his fist still on the door. The music continued blaring.

''How does Logan sleep through all o' dis wid his senses?'' He muttered to himself.

''HE DOESN'T!'' A gruff voice shouted from downstairs, presumably from the kitchen.

Rogue was sitting on her bed. She was listening to Linkin Park while reading her book. Suddenly she noticed her door was pinkish. ~Damn. Ah thought I told Kitty not to paint anything else pink.~ Than she noticed the door was _glowing_ pinkish. ~Remy?~ She turned the volume down, just ever so slightly to be able to shout above the music. ''Hey don't blow up mah door, Cajun! Can't you just knock like any other decent person?''

''Ey?'' ~O merde, I'm chargin' de door.~ He retrieved the charge. 

'''What do you want?'' She shouted.

''Can y' please turn de volume down!''

''Ah just did!''

''A bit more dan dat, chere.'' He sounded a bit patronizing. Rogue did not appreciate that change in his voice.

The door opened. ''Don't y' have t' go t' school or somethin'?'' Remy asked in the same tone.

''Not yet. The English teacher called in sick.'' She said smiling, but there was something about that smile that Remy didn't like at all.

''Den could y' turn de volume down. I'm tryin' t' sleep here.''

''Then sleep somewhere else.'' She sneered ''This is mah room, so Ah can do whatever the hell Ah want.''

''Can' y' do whatever de hell y' want wid less decibels?''

''No.''

Remy sighed. ~Talk about a split personality. First she act all lovable and kissable next thing she's...I give up.~ ''What's dat music anyway?''

''It's a band called Linkin Park.''

''It sucks.''

''Oh and Ah suppose your taste in music is great.''

''Better dan dis rubbish. Lincoln Hark?''

''Linkin Park.''

''Linkin Park. Sound like every oder band y'hear on de radio.''

''That is not true. It only states that you know nothing about music.''

''Chere, everything y' hear on de radio sound de same. Dey have a hundred names f'r it but it's all Medio-core in de end.'' (*)

''Take that back!''

''Non. De music is too loud, predictable an' unoriginal.''

''How can you say that? Do you have ears? Listen to it!''

He listened. The song continued, or was in another song. Remy didn't know. ''Oh, now I see de deeper truer meanin' o' de song.''

She smiled satisfied. She knew she'd win.

''Didn't know Sesame street had a band o' its own.''

Why did that Cajun have to butt in to everything? ''You're just upset because you have no feeling for music and Ah do!''

''Y'r just annoyed I realize dey make music f'r money an' fame and not from devotion.'' 

''You're just a poor musically frustrated Swamp Rat with...'' More insults were shouted in his direction. ~I must have a real gift f'r upsettin' women. Maybe I'm lucky. Maybe it's just dat time o' de month.~ ''...and cut your hair for once in your life, you look like a homeless street rat!'' She slammed the door shut and turned the volume back on 'extremely loud'. Gambit was slightly thrown off balance by that last comment, it reminded him of someone else. Someone he remembered well.

''Dieu, dat girl's worse den m' wife.'' He rubbed his temples. He didn't say it that loud. Really, not at all. But luck was something Remy seemed to be without these days.

''WHAT?''

Remy heard a chuckle coming from downstairs, but he ignored it. ~M' an' m' big mouth. Remy LeBeau you fils de...~ ''What, chere?'' He said in his most angelical voice.

''_What_ did you just say?''

''Nothin'?''

He door opened. ''Your wife? You're married?''

He took a deep breath. ''Define married.'' He tried innocently.

''Married as in family gathering, bride, rings and cake.''

''Hmm. I never really got to de cake bit...''

''You're _married_?!'' 

''Sort of.''

''Sort of?''

''It's not what it looks like. Let m' explain.''

''Get out!''

''Chere, I...'' A flying book quickly approaching him interrupted Remy's pleadings. He only barely managed to avoid it hitting his face. The door slammed back shut and Remy just stood there. ~What way t' start a day.~ 

He found Logan in the kitchen, reading the news paper and sipping coffee with a grin on his face.

''Still alive?'' He asked not even looking up from his paper.

Remy threw the book on the table. ''Jus' barely. Girl's got a mean aim.'' He passed to the counter and grabbed a clean mug.

''Is it true? You're married?'' Logan asked looking up this time.

'''Fraid so. You made dis?'' Remy lifted the coffeepot. Logan nodded. ''Good, den I can drink it.'' He said filling the cup.

''So kid, why are you here and not with the missus?''

''She's a murderous trained assassin.'' Remy said blankly, staring through the window. 

''Point taken.'' Logan said and went back to the sport section of the paper.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''Alright everybody, we've examined the files Gambit and Jean gathered. The plans are far more advanced than we could hope for. The FOH is practically existent already. It stands for Friends Of Humanity. They have numerous wealthy members, and a lot of weaponry at their disposal. There's a file here that seems coded, it makes no sense whatsoever, I will look in to it more closely later. It also says here that they talked to the president, it says here they've convinced him, but I haven't heard that yet. The incident a few days ago with the mutant was triggered by the FOH, they knew how to startle the girl, and they sent a few men there to cause general panic. The plans here state they know another mutant and will make him cause a riot as well. Maybe, if we can reach him before they can cause the riot, we can prevent it. If we succeed then perhaps the mutant registration law will be put away. If we fail, Kramer will talk to the president again and he may succeed.''

''Who's the new mutant?''

''Robert Drake. The boy has cryomorphic abilities.''

''The kid can make ice-cubes? What's he gonna do? Fill everyone coffee with ice?'' Logan mockingly said.

''Hey. 'F he does dat in de mornin', he could start a war.'' Remy warned.

''It is unknown to what extent his powers have manifested. This is his profile.'' Xavier continued talking while Bishop handed some papers to the rest of the team. ''He has been followed for several weeks and he goes to the mall with his friends every week, tomorrow to be precise. We have to be there and get to the boy before the FOH does.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The boy was found without much problems in a busy mall. The man that would scare him was there too plus a few others who would cause more panic. Mission: to get them away from the boy. No problems there. Wolverine is a persuasive man, especially when his claws are mere inches away from his 'victim'. Everything went smoothly. That was, until the Men in Green appeared out of everywhere. They wore green suits and greenish sunglasses, imagine Matrix-style.

''Who sent in de Oompa–Loompa's?'' was the last smart remark made before mayhem started.

The fight was big. Think really big. Like universe big. Like wow-that-was-one-big-fight big. Yeah. A lot of things got smashed. No innocent bystanders were injured, thanks to Jean and Xavier's telepathic shields. Not thanks to Wolverine or Gambit's concern of any one around them. 

Suddenly Gambit heard gunfire too close to him. He looked at himself. ~Not dead. Not even injured. He missed me.~ He looked down and he saw it. The horror. The agony. The terror. He flung himself to his attacker and smashed him into a wall. He spoke, composed, as he should, not flaring with anger as he felt.

''You ruined m' coat. You die. Simple, ney?'' The grin on his face and the glowing red eyes burning a hole in the man made him look like an unpredictable demonic maniac. With glowing hands on his now slightly glowing green coat. The attacker gulped and didn't dare to move. Apparently demons don't like it when their coat gets filled with holes. This might be a good thing to remember for another day.

All of a sudden a scream disrupted the glowing. Gambit looked to the direction of the scream. Rogue was on the floor, reaching her head with both hands.

''Rogue? Rogue!'' In a flash, Gambit removed the charge of the man's coat. Before leaving, he looked back at the man once more. ''We finish dis some oder day ey?'' He smiled, patted the man's cheek and let go. The man fainted as Gambit ran towards Rogue who was still on the ground screaming. 

''Chere, you okay?''

''Do Ah look okay?!'' She tried to shout, but it didn't sound louder than a whisper. 

Gambit sat down on his knees and lifted her head, so it wouldn't be on the hard cold floor, careful not to touch the sleeveless arm. Her suit hadn't been treated nicely either. ''Dat a trick question?''

''They're in mah head. All of them. Ah tried...So much hate. So much...Ah...Ah...''

''Shh. Don' worry. I stay here. It be over soon, non? We jus' wait.'' Gambit caressed her covered arm with one hand while flinging a card to a quickly approaching assailant. ''Maybe we do de waitin' somewhere else, ey, chere.'' He lifted her, quite unceremoniously, put her over his shoulder and took her to Xavier. 

''She absorbed a few men at once, I think. She's confused.'' He put her down, she didn't even move. ''An' unconscious at de moment.''

''I'll take care of her. We've almost beaten these men. I need you to see to Robert. He's confused and frightened. We can't afford to loose him now.''

''Sure thin'.'' 

The boy was easily found, hurled up in a small corner covered in an armor of ice, whishing he was home, with a nice cup of freezing tea. He didn't see the shaded man in green that was approaching him from behind fast and furiously. He didn't see the rage on the man's face. He didn't see the bat in his hand. He didn't see the man come nearer and nearer. He didn't see the flying card until it exploded right behind him, smashing into a near wall and saving the him. But he didn't know that. So instead of gratitude, Remy received a long line of high pitched screamy curses, telling him he should watch were he throws his cards in colorful ways. He rolled his eyes and approached the kid.

''Stop screamin' like a girl at a Backstreet Boys concert.'' He grabbed the kid's collar and dragged him along. 

''You nearly killed me!'' The kid said, while struggling the hold rather unsuccessfully.

''Don' whine. I aimed at de man behind y'. I hardly ever miss a target.'' 

''Hardly ever? You put my life at risk because you 'hardly ever' miss?'' The boy yelled. 

''Apparently, yes. Let's go. Now.'' He pushed the boy towards the rest of the team.

''I don't believe this. Get the fuck away from me, freak.''

''Freak? Y'callin' _me_ a freak? Who's de human Popsicle ruinin' de whole town here?''

''Don't go blaming _me_. You just blew half that building away!''

Gambit turned around and saw the slightly scorched wall. The kid followed his gaze. Then he followed Remy's gaze to the broken down monument that was still dripping melting ice.

''Oh, right...But you _did_ almost kill me!''

''I only wish.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Saving the boy from a bunch of FOH-people was one thing. Convincing the kid to actually come with them was another.

''I'd like to go home now.''

''We saved your life, you could at least be grateful.'' Scott complained.

''I am. Very. Now let me go home.''

''Come with us. We can help you.'' Jean said caringly.

''I'm not going anywhere. I'm just fine, I don't need help.''

''You live hidden. Whenever you transform to your ice-form by accident you run away from everything because you don't want anyone to know who you are. We can teach you how to control your powers and how to use them for good purposes.'' Xavier explained.

''Just leave me alone, okay. I don't need you. I don't need anyone.'' Seeing the mild approach not working, Wolverine grabbed his arm.

''You're coming with us, kid.''

Bobby yanked away from Logan. ''My _name_ is Bobby. I'm not a kid. And I'm not going anywhere with the likes of you.''

''Bobby, mon ami, come here.'' Remy said in a very friendly way while putting an arm around Bobby and moving them away from the rest. ''Walk wid me.'' Not having much choice Bobby moved along with Remy. ''You come wid us, ey, like any oder good boy. Dese here are good people. Dey only here to help, dey won' hurt y'. Trust me.'' While lowering his head a little, he added, only audible to Wolverine. ''An' y' _do_ want t' trust me, cher. Cos 'f y' don' come wid us right now, you gonna regret de day y'r poppa an' momma met. See, I don' much like ruinin' a coat f'r nothin'.'' He tightened his grip on the boys arm and lowered his eyes. The boy could now clearly gaze into two burning red on black eyes. ''Tu comprends?'' 

The boy nodded in sheer terror upon which a smile appeared on Remy's face. ''Good.'' He turned back around and announced. ''He's comin' wid us.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Somewhere in an office in New York 

''They've ruined our plan. Do we know these pests?''

''Yes, but they're a bigger threat than we expected them to be.''

''In that case we must take harder measures.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy cooked that evening, which was quite a sight to say the least. He cooked in the typical closed-kitchen style. For those culinary challenged among you, the closed-kitchen style is the way food is prepared in restaurants you rather bring your own spoon to, because you don't know how the spoons you get there are cleaned, but you suspect it has to do with a drooling dog. You know, the kind of restaurant you sit for the first time and have a wonderful and good tasting meal at until you spot the kitchen doors open because the waiter just came out and you see a million dirty pots, not one clean white tile, a cook licking the spoon he's just tasted the soup with and sticking it back in the soup and a cat just lying there quite harmlessly until you see where it's lying; in front of a small hole in the wall where mice are undoubtedly celebrating a grand feast, catered by all the food that is lying on the floor. It is then and only then that you realize you don't feel so good and blame the food for it. Sick people can get a decent restaurant in trouble. They don't like that idea much. And that, my friends, is why some restaurants cook in the closed-kitchen style. 

In accordance to this style Remy tasted the boiling liquid in on of the pots with a wooden spoon. ''Perfect.'' He chided to himself while stirring the liquid some more. He took part of the already chopped tomatoes ate a few of them and took the rest of them with his bare hands and put them in the pot. Wiping his hands on the once-upon-a-time white apron, not minding greasing his black and old 'Honk if you've never seen a gun fired from a moving chopper'-shirt, he undid and retied his hair in an attempt to lock a loose stand of hair back with the rest. It worked, for now. The strand was shorter then the rest and would be out again in no time. Hopefully not when he would look down the contents of the pot to see if the Gumbo (A/N what else.) looked all right. He took the newspaper he had been reading sat on the counter, right next to the freshly chopped vegetables and continued with the Sports section. See, a typical closed-kitchen style of cooking. It probably tastes great but you don't necessarily feel the need to see how it's been prepared.

Remy also worked alone. Very, very alone. He didn't allow anyone within a 10 mile radius of the kitchen. So far he had successfully managed to be left to his cooking, aided by a few charged knifes that looked real dangerous even from afar. However, Wolverine wasn't in the least bothered by so called territorial claims. He wanted a coke, the coke was in the fridge, the fridge was in kitchen. Simple as that. 

''Smells good kid. Want some coke too?'' 

Wanting to protest to the invasion of his personal cooking-space but remembering just in time about two sets of adamantium claws, Remy wisely said ''Sure.'' and put the paper down to check on his cooking one more time.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Dinner that evening was one big riot. Of course bystanders had seen the fight. The kids being exposed in public would not be good for them. So, everyone was talking about it, all together, at once in a very unorganized way.

''Everyone at school vill know about us, now.''

''Yeah, I'll be kicked out of the basketball team, man.''

''We'll, like, be kicked out of school all together.''

''Y'r upset cos y' won' hav' t' go t' school no more?'' Remy shook his head in unbelief. ''Someone explain.''

''Some of us enjoy having proper education, Gambit. It makes us capable of adding some level to our conversations.''

A shrimp was launched in Scott's general direction. ''Shrimp, Scott, Scott, Shrimp. Now y' can talk t' someone on y'r own level.'' The poor sea-creature landed in his hair. Scott was not amused. Remy was. And so, the delicate balance was once again restored.

''I suggest that if such a thing truly happens we could teach the students here at the mansion.'' Hank said to Xavier.

''Yes. That would be a marvelous idea. I could teach you English and Economics. 'Ro could teach Biology and Geography, . Hank could teach Physics and Chemistry. Logan could handle Self defense. And Remy could teach History.'' Xavier answered. 

Remy heard the conversation and looked up in surprise ''Ey? What you say?''

''You could teach history. And perhaps French for those who are interested.''

''History an' French?''

''For those interested.''

''I don' think so.''

''We all have to help such a situation.''

''Y'r kiddin', right. Me, as a teacher? Well, y'sure got a sense o' humor, Xavier.''

''Why would I be kidding?''

''Let's start at point 86 and go down from dere...''

''Well I think...'' Scott interrupted.

''Scott, I didn't ask you.'' Xavier warned.

A hint of light shone in the Cajun's mind. ~Scott don' like de idea o' me bein' a teacher much, ey. Ask y'rself a question, LeBeau: Do you need any more encouragement to accept de offer? Non.~ ''Fine. I do it. But m' classes start no earlier den twelve.'' He pointed a wooden spoon towards Xavier warningly. 

''Of course.'' 

''Bon. What does history classes teach kids nowadays?'' 

~ Nowadays?~ Scott thought. ~ As if he ever took a history class in his entire life.~

''We have a book on, like, the Cold War.'' Kitty said, excited to the possibility of having a cute teacher for once in her life.

''De Cold War? Where dey fight dat? De Artic?''

''Are you sure he is fit to teach the children?'' Hank whispered to Xavier.

''Most certainly.''

''Let's stop de borin' talk. Dis is what all of you have been waitin' for. You thought you knew what good food looked like? Feast y'r eyes on dis, den.'' Remy put the plates on the table. The food looked incredibly good, very promising indeed.

''Smells great.'' 

''Jus' wait 'till y' taste it, mon ami.''

''You must tell me the recipe.'' Storm smilingly said.

''Can', Stormy. Ancient family secret. Dis recipe goes wid me t' de grave. Feel free t' dig it up, dough. Bon appetit.''

Kurt was the first to dip in. The word moderation was unknown to him as he took a first bite. And a second and a third. All in one motion. Suddenly he stopped, his eyes becoming very watery. His nose cringed. ''Vater, vater. Now!'' He cried out and a glass of water was gulped back in a few seconds. ''Man, dat's hot. Are you trying to kill us?'' 

Remy laughed. ''Down on de Bayou we have a sayin'. If y' can' beat dem, invite dem over f'r dinner.''

**********************************************

A/N That's it for this week…ahem, three weeks. Anyway, I hope you liked it, I hope you laughed and I hope you understood my impaired English. 

On next: Well, let's keep it simple for once: Review or Christina is 'on next'…he-he.

(*) A/N Sorry for fans of Linkin Park and co, but I didn't want Remy to like the same music as Rogue (he likes jazz), and I figured Rogue likes L.P. and that kind of stuff. Don't whine. You should all be happy I didn't have her like Westlife. :-) I repeat: I am not trying to insult anyone, I kinda appreciate L.P. too, so don't be angry. 

Everyone has his/her a certain style of music that he/she calls Medio-core.

Medio-Core

Nofx

Medio-core, It's not forsaken

The music they're makin'

Will leave you woke up 

Feeling of indifference

How was the band? 

They were okay 

Not great, but pretty good

They played the songs I knew they would

Some old, some new 

They say the formula stays true

You can't concur

It's Medio-core

Sing 

Sing a song

Make it simple

So all the kids can sing along 

Sing along

The list keeps growin'

The melodies been stolen

Remind me of songs sung in the 70's

You might fool the kids

But you don't fool me

Have you ever heard of something called

aboriginality

Is it absurd

To compose music no one's ever heard

Predictability

Like a bussom will confront them

My one true foe

L.C.D.

Medio-core

This other power

Who rips the lofty flower 

Spreading faster 

Than British tooth decay

Are you ready to run?

How are you all doin tonight?

You condensential fucks 

Make me wanna laugh and puke at the same time

I want to speak

The soft sounds like they do

I've heard before

Medio-core

Sing 

Sing a song

Make it simple

So all the kids can sing along

Sing along


	12. Penguins and the art of warfare

Disclaimer: I own my very own mind and I assure you it is a fulltime job.

Star-of-Chaos Shrimps are good, you know, they have feelings too. Thanx.

Ishandahalf He-he, I'm a cruel human being. I hope I made it up by not including Christina Agui-howeveryouwriteit in this chapter…

Aro Thanx. Update right here.

Lonewolf Bishowho? Oh, Bishop, wait, wasn't that a main character in this story? Oops…euh…Here he is again, let's just pretend he was like Gambit's shadow all along…

Silver17 (review from chap. 7) Aha! I am not going to tell you! It's a secret. Ha! Because if I tell you now, you won't read the story. So, just keep the reviews coming, and I'll write on…

Natural Hey, I had parties to go to, people to see, sleep to catch up on and a first of January to forget ever happened. But I'm back, so I'll try to update sooner again.

Leann I am so flattered. Wow! *makes movements that are supposed to be a dance of some sort, but it's just a mess of incoherent stumbles* Thank you so much. 

Anime Addicted Violence equals funny situations. 

A/N I got a severe case of writer's block, better known as writer's concrete block. Sorry.

*****************************************************

_12. History teaches us the mistakes we will make later on_

Fissie

Bobby picked at his food. He didn't feel at all at home. The professor told him he should give it time, that he would feel more at home soon. That he should try it for a few days and see if he liked it. He didn't.

''Y' don' like de food, mon ami?'' 

Bobby woke up from his thoughts. ''Euh, yeah, sure whatever.''

''What's wrong?'' Scott asked.

''Nothing. It's just...I'm not used to this, that's all. I mean, two blue furry guys at the table, a girl passing herself the salt telepathically, she just passed through the wall. It's weird.''

''Well, we _are_ mutants.'' Scott explained.

''I figured that much.''

''You'll get used t' it all, don' worry. Except t' him.'' He pointed his fork at Bishop. ''Y'll never get used t' him. I know I won', right pup?''

''I doubt it. Father.''

''Father? Pup? What the...'' Bobby was more then confused now.

''Long story, don'ask don'tell.''

''We'll explain later.'' Scott promised.

At that point, Rogue came in. She looked like she had just woken.

''Chere! Sit down, I fix y'up some Gumbo.'' Remy stood up and pulled a chair out for her.

''Don't shout! Don't talk. Don't even dare to whisper.'' Apparently she _had_ just woken up. She sat down. Remy didn't dare moving. ''Ah'd like some food now.'' 

''Comin' up.'' Remy said softly. 

''How's your head?'' Evan asked.

''Killing me.'' A short but very effective answer, they ate in silence after that. Leaving an even more confused Bobby behind. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy woke up, all by himself. Not aided by music, shoutings or any other annoyances. He checked the clock; it was twelve. Privately, Remy smiled. ~Today is a good day.~ He stood up and, as if a string was tied between him and his roommate, Bishop got up too. ~Almost forgot bout him. Scratch good.~ ''Mornin' Bishop.''

''It is afternoon.''

''Details, mon ami, details.'' He cheered. For once live was good for Remy LeBeau.

He showered in peace. He got dressed in silence. He and Bishop went downstairs. No sounds, no disturbances.

They entered the kitchen. Utter stillne...~No, Dieu! Say it ain' so.~

''Good afternoon Gambit!'' ''Hey could you get pass me that too, please?'' ''So I told him...'' ''Hello, Bishop!'' All sorts of conversations blended into inaudible racket. Remy approached Kitty, who was talking, well, screeching about a boy she met that was totally gorgeous and so cute, and put a hand over her mouth. She muffled a 'Hey!', and Remy tightened his grip to her. The rest of the cheerful gathering wisely decided to shut up. Only the television could be heard, softly in the background.

''What are y'all doin' here?'' He said angrily.

''We live here.'' Evan tried.

''Why ain' y' at school?''

Kitty remembered her powers and phased through Remy's hand. ''We got, like, kicked out. A biology teacher was at the mall too. He recognized us.''

''Sorry t' hear.''

''Yeah, well, at least we've got a day off now.''

''Dat's what I'm sorry 'bout.''

''Be quiet. It's the news.'' Bishop turned the TV volume up. 

Kramer was giving one of his speeches.

#''Us humans have the right to a save environment. We don't allow children carry weapons to our schools. Well, that's what mutants are...''

''Kramer believes that the mutant registration law is mandatory to preserve safety in our society. The president agrees with his statements, although there is an internal struggle between the...'#

Remy saw a hint of raw anger in Bishop eyes. He wondered for how long Bishop was going to put up with everything until he burst and killed the man he still believed would betray and kill the x-men. Sensibly, he decided to put his need for coffee aside and silently like only a thief could, he left the kitchen. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy went in search of Rogue, there was something he had that he wanted her to have. He found her sitting at the pond, throwing stones into the water.

She didn't feel much better. Sure, the voices were gone, but she still felt their hate for mutants. She hated her powers. She hated being her. A little stone right flew above her and landed in the water right in front of her. ~What the...~ Her trail of thoughts was interrupted by an explosion. She screamed. ''Cajun! Just wait till Ah get mah hands on you!'' She turned around but saw no one. ''Ah know its you, Swamp boy!'' She stood up. 

In the tree a young man knew his life was ending. Would she believe him if he said it was an accident. Maybe, if he could wipe the smirk off his face. But seeing an angry Mississippi river rat was too damn funny not to laugh. So he did.

She heard laughter coming from the tree. 

''Come down here.''

He let himself fall from the branch he was on. He chocked away his smile

''Sorry, chere, how can I make it up t' y'?'' He stepped closer.

''By leaving me alone.''

''No can do. Maybe dis help.'' Out of nowhere a necklace appeared dangling from his right hand. Two silver chains connected to each other by ten oval rubies. Silver spikes were attached to the lower chain, one between each two rubies. Those spikes made it look a bit gothy. 

Rogue reached out to it. ''Wow, it's beautiful. Wait, why are you giving it to me?''

''Cos I figure it gon' look great on y'.'' ~ Besides, y' need some cheerin' up after de whole absorption issue. Don' like belle femmes lookin' sad.~ 

''You didn't steal it, or anything, did you?''

''Chere, y' wound m'.'' He put his free hand to his heart in mock shock.

''Did you?'' She repeated seriously.

''Does it matter?'' He handed her the necklace, knowing that she wouldn't appreciate it if he tried to put in around her neck. It was a tight fitting necklace and she would surely think he would accidentally touch her skin.

Rogue examined the necklace. ''Yeah, it matters. Ah don't want any stolen things.''

''Maybe so. But look at it dis way, even 'f I bought it f'r y'. Where d'y' think most o' m' money comes from?''

''Right.'' She handed it back to him. ~Too bad, such a lovely necklace.~

''Y' don' like it?''

''It's beautiful.''

''Den keep it. What de harm? Come on.''

''Ah really don't think Ah...''

''I didn't steal it, chere. Trust me.''

''All right. Well, thank you...Ah love it.'' Before she realized it, he had taken her hand and kissed the back of her glove.

''Anytime, chere.'' He stood up. ''Oh, an' 'f anyone asks, no y' never been t' Tokyo.'' 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Xavier's study, later that afternoon.._

''Logan, I am concerned. We changed the course of history by catching up on Bobby, but we caused panic ourselves.''

''What can ya do about it.'' Wolverine was not into talking, he just wanted this to be over so he could go and work on his bike.

''Our actions have only driven us further away from my dream.''

''We must focus on the FOH. The way I see it there are three units. One, the people, the members. Two, the men in green. Three, Kramer.'' Hank stated.

''So, ya got a plan?''

''We must find out more about those men in green. They worry me. They are talented fighters and well trained.''

''Yeah. And the weapons they used are pretty high tech.''

''Indeed. But where do we start?'' 

''I'll go talk around town, see if anyone can tell me about the FOH. Meanwhile, you just start classes.''

''I started this morning. And I have asked Remy to start teaching history this afternoon.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

Remy dared going near his shadow again.

''Bishop, cher, you got anythin' t' do t'day?'' 

''Why?'' He big bad man sneered.

''Can y' teach some kids some history f'r me?'' Remy tried a smile.

''My history is your future. Besides I only know what you told me about the past.''

''Dat much, ey? Well, I got class right now. Come on, pup.'' He motioned Bishop to follow him.

''I'm may not leave you out of my sight, but I am not your servant. Do not order me around.''

''Sure, as soon as y' stop followin' m'.''

They reached the room that now functioned as Remy's classroom. They entered.

''Hello, class.'' He greeted.

''Good afternoon, Mr. LeBeau.'' They chanted in mock. Remy turned around in horror.

''Lesson number one'' He said sternly. ''Call me Remy, call me monsieur if y' must, call me your Highness f'r all I care. But don' ever call me Mr. LeBeau.''

''You're fifteen minutes late.'' Rogue pointed out.

''Y' don' say. I feel so sorry.'' He answered sarcastically. Bishop sat down on a chair in a far corner of the room.

Remy adjusted himself in the chair behind the desk and put his feet on the table. ''I could get used t'dis.'' He started whistling a song.

''Ehm, shouldn't you, like, get started?''

''Okay, okay, don' go gettin' anxious.'' He put his feet back on the floor. ''I read de book on de Cold War y' gave m', an' I don' like it. 'S got no pictures, 's borin'.''

''What do you suggest: The Cold War, the comic?'' Bobby asked.

''I jus' find it boring, de whole Cold War issue. It wasn't really cold, well, 'xcept Moscow in de winter, an' it weren't really a war, so what de point. De Cold War is like two kiddies playin' wid buildin' blocks. Dey both want de highest tower, so dey keep on buildin'. But y' know one o' dem is goin' to come tumblin' down sooner or later. Den dey come t' an agreement t' build only so an' so high towers. End. Childish an' borin' as hell. ''

''So what _are_ we going to study?'' Evan asked.

''De Cold War. _I_ ain' goin' t' study, dat your job. I don' care, jus' think it's borin'.''

''Yeah, but you're supposed to talk to us about it, make it interesting.''

''Y' wan' witty anecdotes on de Cold War, ask someone who was dere.''

''Oh come on. What kind of teacher are you?''

''None. I am a thief.''

''Ex-thief.''

''I stole de paper's from Kramer's house, I say I ain' out of de job yet. Anyone in f'r a round o' poker.'' He started shuffling some cards.

''You're just trying to get out of teaching.''

''Is it workin'?''

''No.''

Remy sighed. ''Let's start at page 40. The negotiations with Churchill. Or as he so eloquently put it: If y' can' beat dem, drink wid dem.''

********************************************************

A/N: See, very short, and I really don't like it…but I wanted to post it and get it over with. Maybe I'll post it again someday…anyway, the basic point is that they got kicked out of school. So just remember that, forget the rest of this chapter…

On next: A better chapter, I promise. Don't leave me. *sob.*

Review to give me the inspiration I need to continue my quest for story. 


	13. You say quit I say temporary change

Disclaimer: Marvel, marvel, they our man, if they can't own them, no one can.

Star-of-Chaos Thank you *sob*, feeling better already.

Natural January the first just doesn't exist, much like Sunday morning. My story rocks? I always thought it hit rock…bottom that is. But hey, lots of thanx!

Ishandahalf Tweed jacket…*evil grin* don't give me ideas you might not like the result…

Bitrona In the comic, (don't know if it started in Uncanny or not) Bishop blamed Gambit for betraying and killing the x-men, turns out it wasn't him but Xavier as Onslaught. In the original cartoon (forgot the name) Bishop blamed Gambit for betraying everyone and killing the president, turns out it wasn't him but Mystique shape-shifted as Gambit. See the pattern? Who will the true traitor be in my story? That's for me to know and for you to find out. :) Anyway, hope you like this chapter too.

Yersi Fanel Welcome, welcome to the delirious figments of my imagination. And thanx. Read on, read on, we're not there yet…

Leann Well, thanx and I hope your student teacher didn't blow up any cards…Or, wait, that doesn't happen in real life does it…

Lonewolf What demolishing thoughts. Rogue, Bobby? Scott? No, I'm more cliché than that. Much more…just wait and see…

Samson Thanx, you know, it's really difficult to find a fic that isn't mushy. I almost slipped once or twice. But I made it after all. Warn me if I slip. Please.

Misa1124 What presidential assassination? I'm killing the x-men, not the president…:) Anyway, thanx for joining and do continue to find out more…

Dark Elf3 Okay, here's my theory on the I-don't-get-many-reviews-boo-hoo-hoo-conspiracy: I haven't threatened everyone good enough to review. No seriously, it all about my summary. It sucks. But I can't think of a better one. (Read: help me). It's either that or you're the only one not annoyed by my writing style…

Emma Thanx. I almost forgot about his thoughts, you made me remember I wrote a lot of them in previous chapters. Continuity is not my strong point. So here's more thoughts, hope you'll like it.

A/N From this chapter on I solemnly vow to be serious. I mean action, angst, the whole lot…right, who am I kidding?

*******************************************************

13. Friendly fire isn't 

Fissie

''An' dat concludes de adventures of Churchill. I can hardly believe I ever found dis borin'. I mean, dis is so interestin'. Who'd 've thought? '' 

''Can we go now?'' Evan asked, the sun was shining and he wanted to shoot some hoops.

''Please.''

The students ran out of the improvised classroom, almost knocking Ororo to the floor, who was standing in the doorway.

''How was your first class?'' She smiled. 

Remy yawned. ''In two words: Boh rin'.''

''I thought you liked history.''

''Art history, chere. It's background info in my line o' work. Don' care much bout de rest o' it.'' 

''We learn from the mistakes we made in the past.''

~Yeah, right. Whole lot o' good dat'll do.~ He thougt wryly. ''_We_ might. But de drunk, de paranoid an' de mad don'. An' it jus' happens t' be dose who rule de world. Ain' dat de truth, Bishop.'' He added to empathize his point. 

Bishop approached the two mutants. ''Yes.'' Funny how a man who he _knew_ was going to be the traitor to all x-men could say something that actually sounded reasonable and truthful.

''Perhaps.'' Storm admitted. ''I still believe it is a very important class.''

''Enough bout my class. How's y'r class been, ey Stormy? Biology, non?''

''Do not call me that. Or I shall demonstrate the mechanism of lightning on you, in front of my class, tomorrow.''

~Better change de subject, she mean it. Dieu, dat's one scary woman.~ ''So, how de search f'r de Men in Green comin' on?''

''Wolverine is going to find some clues on where they stay, tonight.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The Garage 

Remy and Bishop found Logan repairing some minor damage to his bike.

''Hey, Wolvie, were y' goin' t' tonight?''

Logan didn't even look up. ''Sightseeing through your intestines if ya call me that again.'' 

''Can I go too?''

''Nope. Chuck wants me to go alone.''

''Where t', mon ami?''

''Find out where those FOH-idiots are hiding.''

''I'll go wid y.''

''We'll go with you.'' Bishop added.

''No.'' 

''Where you gonna look?''

''A bar down town, where I know mutant-haters hang out.''

''I gotta go wid y'.''

''Nope.''

''Oh, come on. It been ages since I gone t' a decent bar. I need dose fumes. I need dose drinks. I need dose drunk people bodering m', so I can boder dem back wid a charged bottle.'' He whined. 

''No. Your eyes might expose us. And Bishop ain't exactly subtle either.''

''You no fun.'' Remy looked at the bike. ''Y' missed a scratch.'' ~ Ha! Revenge is mine.~

''That's the shade, kid. Go do something useful.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Wolverine went barhopping that night. Not looking for a pub brawl as usual, but to gather information. Hey, novelty keeps the world going. He found the info he needed pretty fast, due to his natural powers of persuasion. Not to mention two sets of adamantium claws. So now he was headed to the place where members of the FOH was supposed to hang out.

He had never been to that club, the 'Fast One-way to Hell'. Not his style really, which says one or two things about the place. 

A bunch of dark green Ducatis were parked at the side of the pub. 

He entered the pub and sat down at the bar. 

''Can I get you anything.'' The bartender asked.

''A beer.'' Logan took out a cigar and lit it. 

''Are you new around here?'' A woman sat down next to him, dressed with too little clothes and too much makeup. 

''Sorta.''

''Not the talkative type, are you?'' 

''Nope.''

''Well, honey. You need anything, you know where to find me.''

Through the mirror behind the bar, Logan could see a couple of men playing pool. Amongst all the loud noises and laughter, his sensitive hearing could clearly pick up a more hidden, whispered conversation. He listened at the disgust in their voices and resisted the urge to slice and dice those men and women right there. With almost visible difficulty. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The mansion 

Rogue sat on her bed, looking at the collar. ~Are those real rubies? They look pretty real to me.~

''Oh my god, where'd you get that?'' A voice screamed behind her.

''Hello Kitty. It was a gift.'' Rogue said, not even turning around.

''It's so totally great! Wow.''

''Ya can't borrow it.'' Rogue sneered.

''I wasn't asking.'' Kitty said insulted, but then her voice turned to curiosity. ''Who gave it to you? Oh, was it a secret admirer?''

''Gumbo.'' Rogue almost spat the name.

''Remy? Wow. Why?''

''Ah don't know. Maybe to make up for his idiotic behavior.''

''That's so cute.''

''Whatever.''

''Oh come on. Who are you kidding? You like him.'' Rogue made a face in disgust. ''Admit it.''

''No Ah don't. '' Kitty made a who-are-you-kidding-girl-face ''Did you know he's married?''

''What?'' Kitty couldn't believe it.

''Yeah.''

''No way.''

''Way.''

''He doesn't wear a ring.''

''So? Maybe they have matching tattoos.''

''I saw him at the swimming pool one day. I didn't see any tattoo.'' Rogue pulled a and-so-what-conclusion-can-you-draw-from-that-fact face. ''Ohh.'' Kitty put her hand over her mouth and blushed. ''You really think he could have a tattoo....there?''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_The following morning,_

Rogue came down from her English class. ~One more comment on mah accent and Ah'll kill that man.~ She wanted to go outside for a while, when she overheard a phone call.

''Y'r timin' sucks, homme.'' It was Remy, on the phone, sounding rather irritated. ''I don' have it'' ... ''Don' tell me what I have an' what I don' have.'' He sounded almost menacing. ''So?'' He listened and sighed. ''Merde, dat some deep shit.'' The other end of the phone was not done talking.  ''No.'' ... ''No.'' ... '' No.'' ... ''Dieu, all right already.'' He sighed again. ''Where?'' He got ready to grab a pen. ''What y' mean?'' ... ''I don' care, jus' wanna know where.'' ... ''Cos I'm askin' y' nicely.'' The patience in his voice was no longer. ''I know, I know.'' ... ''I know, jus' don' give a fuck, y' encule de mere.'' ... ''Nothin', y'r hearin' things. Must be delirious, homme.'' He smiled. ''Come on, jus' tell m' where.'' He frowned. ''I remember where y' live y'know, be glad I'm askin'.'' He grinned again. ''I knew y'd get by.  Lemme grab a pen....Okay, spill.'' ... ''Got it, merci mon ami.'' ... ''I heard dat.'' Remy smiled as he hung up. How he loved getting on peoples nerves. A voice startled his amusement.

''What was that all about?'' 

~Rogue?~ ''Nothin', chere. Don' worry none.'' ~ How long has she been listening? Does she know?~ Gambit went in evade-issue-or-she'll-ask-me-too-many-questions mode. ''It look great on y'.'' He said, pointing at the necklace.

''Yeah, it does.'' Rogue managed a smile.

''Too bad bout de rest.''

''What?!'' A fist pumped into his ribs.

''I mean de makeup, chere! De makeup! Don' kill m'.'' ~Dieu, dat girl's gon' kill m' some day.~

''Ah like the makeup and Ah like the clothes, stop bugging me.'' Another fist, this time directed to his face, was caught just in time. 

''Not de face, chere. Jus' wanted t' say dat such a belle as y'rself does herself injustice wearing...''

''If you want to discuss fashion, Swamp Rat, go talk to your wife.'' She knew it was unfair. She didn't care. 

~Au. Dat's a stab in de chest, chere.~ But of course, he couldn't let that notice, so instead of taking the knife out of his heart, he put an arm around Rogue and guided her upstairs.

''Come, let's go to class, we got so much to learn an' so little time.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Wolverine sat down in Xavier's office. 

''They know about us, they've been spying. We're 'dangerous group of mutants'. We 'must be disposed of'. I swear it Chuck, I could've just ripped...''

''But you didn't, which is good. We need to get to the core of this problem.''

'' I got some hints as to where they are hiding their pathetic little asses. Some old abandoned warehouse.''

''Excellent. I have an appointment with the President this afternoon again, but perhaps you, Storm and Hank can form a plan.''

''Gonna persuade the man this time?''

''By making him see what a mistake he is making.''

''Maybe you should step of the moral-ladder and come to earth. It would make things a lot easier.''

''It would prove the FOH right. That mutants are dangerous, that they are a threat. I am not letting that happen.''

''Yeah, yeah, I know. ''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

History Class 

''He's late. Again.''

''He'll be here. He said he had to pick up something.''

The door swung open and a happy Cajun walked in. ''Okay, mes petits enfants, let us learn.'' He waved a disc around.

''What's that?''

''Dis here be one o' dem round information keepers. We call em _c_ _d_'s. ''

''I mean, what's on it?''

''A program bout de Cold War. Very interestin'. So sit still an' learn. Be a sponge. Feel de information gather inside you. Absorb.'' He gestured with his hands in a very dramatic way. Briefly Bishop wondered if he did not accidentally come back to an alternative past. Somewhere in his heart he wished he had. He did not want to believe this man was the man that raised him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Five seconds before the end of the almost never-ending program, Remy woke up.

''An' dat's all I hav' t' say about dat.'' Rogue found his Forrest Gump imitation scarily close to reality. 

''Man, that was boring.''

''Oui.''

''Well, great. Come on! Let's go!'' Kitty pushed Rogue and Jean to the exit. 

''Where you ladies goin'?'' Remy asked smiling.

''Shopping.'' 

His smile died out. ''How nice.'' He remembered the days he was dragged to the mall by Mercy, his brother's wife. And all those times he was forced to go shopping with Belle. He knew what the line was after 'We're going shopping.' He did not like his life. ~Don' ask me t' come wid y'. Don' ask me t' come wid y'. Don' ask me t' come wid y'.~

''Come with us.''

~Earth, swallow me now.~ ''Nah, merci.'' He tried casually.

''Oh, come on. You need a new coat.''

''M' coat is jus' fine.''

''It's torn...Even more torn than it was before.'' Jean said.

''I like it torn.''

''We'll have fun!'' Kitty shouted.

~Yeah, Who-ho. You really put de fun in fungus.~ ''Non, really.'' 

''Please?'' Rogue pouted. She knew it was mean, she loved mean. 

~Damn.~ They had him cornered. ''Bishop?'' He mouthed a 'help me'.

''Dante's verse 'Abandon hope all ye who enter here' continues to run through my mind. I wonder why.''

~_Now_ he starts makin' jokes.~

''If you're coming, you'll have to leave that gun here.'' Jean stated. 

''Never.''

''Bishop can' even sleep widout dat gun. It be his teddy, his bestest buddy ever. So guess dat mean were not goin'. Too bad.'' He smile that wanted to shine on his face was hard to hide.

''Can't you leave the giant gun here and bring along a smaller weapon?'' Rogue suggested.

Bishop pondered for a moment. He saw the look of horror on LeBeau's face. 

Remy watched in horror as a smile appeared on Bishop's face. ~Oh non!~

''Fine. We shall go with you.''

~Why can' he jus' shoot m'?~

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Shopping with the ladies wasn't all that bad. Apart from the part where Remy had almost bought a bike for his 'pup'. Bishop showed him that he was very capable of killing the Cajun without the huge rifle. Father and son bonding was not something they would be getting to on a short term bases.

Now they were sitting in a café, drinking coffee. The waitress came along and put the check down. Remy took his wallet and took out a few bills.

''Eh, Remy, that was a different wallet then the one you paid with at the store.'' Jean noted. 

''Oh.'' He said innocently. He took the wallet and examined it. ''Well, will y' look at dat. It changed color. Must be chameleon leather.''

''Right. It's a woman's purse.''

''I happen t' like it.'' He sounded insulted.

''It's fluffy and purple.'' Rogue said sardonically. 

''I _like _fluffy an' purple. Goes wid m' eyes.'' Rogue snatched the wallet from his hands. ''Hey!''

She opened it. It had a few pictures in it.

''And who's pictures are these, then?''

''M' husband and filles?''

''You stole th...! Mphh!'' Remy's hand was over her mouth in no time. 

''Keep y'r voice down, chere.'' He smiled around to anyone who might find the scenery a bit suspicious. 

''Mphh!''

''Dat better be an 'okay'.''

''Mph!'' He took his hand away. ''Gawd.'' She straightened her shirt. ''You stole that?!'' It was a shouted whisper.

''So?''

''That's robbery!''

''So?''

''You can't go around stealing people's wallet!''

''I _can_, chere, dat's de good part.''

''You've got to give it back. What about the other wallet?''

A black wallet appeared in the Cajun's hand like a magic trick. He flipped it open.

''Empty.'' He stated. Rogue looked at him accusingly. ''What? Dat shirt was very expensive. _Dat_'s de robbery, 'f y' ask me.''

''Have you no morality?'' Jean accused.

''Sure I have. I'd never steal from kids, old ladies or people dat keep deir money in deir socks, or underwear. _Especially_ people who keep deir money in deir socks or underwear. '' He emphasized. 

''It's wrong.'' Kitty said. 

''It works.''

''You could be arrested.''

''Dat be a first.''

''I thought you said you quit the whole thieving business when you joined us. That's what you said.'' Rogue remembered. 

''It did. Dis is more of a... '' he tried searching the right word for it.''...hobby, 'f you will.''

''A hobby? You pick pockets as a hobby?'' Rogue said incredulously.

''Oui.''

''So you didn't actually quit your life of crime.'' Jean raised an eyebrow.

''Maybe I giv' de word 'quitin'' a different meanin' den you do.'' Remy tried.

''Maybe you just lied to us.''

''Naturally. Lying is another one of LeBeau's hobby's.'' Bishop stated irritably. The sound of his voice made Remy glad the man from the future had not brought his gun here. He didn't much feel like running for his life again. That's why he knew he shouldn't say what he was going to say. But he did love to annoy that big fellow. So with a smile and a pat on Bishop's back, Remy laughed and said:

''Hey, y' know what I always say, mon ami. 'F y' can' beat dem, make em like y' an' deceive dem.''

*******************************************************

A/N Okay, still a bit lame, but it will get better next time. And for your general information, no, Remy does not have a tattoo on his ass. Or on any other parts of his body. Not in this story anyway…

On next: Well, if the FOH hides at an old warehouse, where do you think the x-men will go next? Hawaii? 

Review, you don't have to be kind

I promise I won't take it out of your hide

I won't mind a little criticism

I won't mind hearing I am not the best

I won't mind a little time locked up in prison

I can put up with all the Rorschach tests

I'm a good little soul, you see, no harm

I have a circle saw in my barn

;-


	14. This plan cannot fail

Disclaimer: To own or not to own…The gun pointed at my head says not to own…very persuasive.

VinGirl Sorry, I should have warned: Some of these stories may contain utter silliness. Consult your local pharmacist before reading.

Star-of-Chaos People with death wishes are funny. Fact of life, that. Anyway, hope you like this chappie too. 

Ima Super Mute Ant Hey, thought I lost you on this story. Nice to see you still like it! 

Dark Elf3 Wow. That has got to be the longest review I have ever seen, so I'll take it point by point. Snow sucks. It pretends to be all fluffy and nice and cozy but it's wet, dirty and tastes terribly. I have no idea what aol IM means (yes I am computerly-challenged), maybe you can explain it, but I'm honored that you're using something that I wrote (though it's probably all been said a million times before). I've upped the rating to PG, but I really don't see the point, you tell me one child who has never in his life seen any bad things or heard any curses, I mean the first words a baby learns are 'mommy', 'poppa' and 'stop crying for fucks sake'. Besides, you tell me what parent would sit down with his kid to read a fanfic story? Anyway, love to know you liked it. And finally: eat breakfast, it good for you. Trust me. ;)

Leann Aha, the phone call, all I can say is Rogue is _not_ going to be pleased…oh no, not at all. *evil grin* 

Isandahalf I stole the quote from the comics. No wait, I borrowed the quote from the comics, as a tribute…sounds much better, don't you think?

Emma Love that you laughed at it. I laughed too when I read it, but since I wrote it, it only makes me a pretty sad person. 

Lonewolf I knew a bit of Nick Cave inspired poetry would make you come around…

Caliente What are you saying? I love that story! I had to bear in mind _not_ to make Bishop team up with Rogue in this story, because people would kill me for plagiarism!

Vagus I cannot be bribed with cookies, especially not with half eaten cookies…what?…you got more? Gimme, gimme, gimme! :)

Peace215 Ah yes, the cockiness. Let me explain. I started a plotless story, just to put in some jokes and make people laugh. Then a plot suddenly came in and now I have to make up an actual story with an actual end. Now, continuity was never my strong point, so I just go on writing stupid jokes and try to mix some sort of plot in between. Promise, from here on, more plot…I hope…Anyway, I'm not a robot, I'm just that good. *grin* 

Epona Good! I like it when people laugh like insane people. Makes the insane look a bit more sane…

A/N I'm finally getting somewhere…promise. 

***********************************************

14. Watertight plans aren't 

Fissie

And so, after a speech on morality, Remy paid for the coffee and cake with his fluffy purple purse. The waitress thanked him for the big tip and the shoppers left for the car. 

On their way back to the parking lots, Remy casually found a small old, second hand store in a small alley, not anywhere any normal person would look for anything. The place was filled with old clothing, old furniture and other old stuff. It had this weird smell to it; a combination of mothballs, wood polish, dust and some indescribable moldy pong. The floor crackled as they stepped inside. While Jean, Kitty, Rogue and Bishop sort of looked around and tried not touching anything, Remy walked up to the counter. 

''Can I be of service?'' An old gray-haired man appeared behind the counter. His smile was a bit too wide.

''Depends. Y' got coats?'' Remy asked, not really looking interested.

''Coats?'' The man sounded a bit more surprised than he should have been.

''Oui. Coats. Trench, 'f y' got.'' Remy insisted.

''Sure, I'll look.'' The man went to the storage room and came back after five minutes with a worn out trench coat. Similar to the one Remy had before. He put it on. It fitted perfectly.

''Bien, I'll take it.'' Remy didn't take off the coat. 

''Can I interest you in some other things? A good book, for example.'' The man suggested just a bit too consciously.

''Non.'' 

''Just the coat?'' The old man frowned.

''Jus' de coat.'' Remy smiled.

''It's a very nice book.''

''Non, merci.'' Remy persisted..

''I believe it is called 'seven pillars of wisdom'.''

''No.'' He was getting annoyed. 

''Written by T.E. Lawrence...It's got a nice black cover, bit worn out in places, but...''

''I know de book. I ain' interested. Stop buggin' m'.'' He said. And in a low voice, so no one would hear he continued. ''Or I'll be buggin' you.''

Two demon eyes gazed into two old gray ones. ''Well,'' The old man said a bit too cheerfully. ''Enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Have a nice day! Goodbye!''

Rogue had observed this strange behavior, while Bishop was examining an old rifle and Kitty and Jean were slowly growing attached to an antique comforter.  She thought the whole ordeal with that man was odd, to say the least.

They stepped out of the store and headed towards the car. A thought hit Rogue. ~Did he pay for that coat at all? Maybe Ah missed it.~ Still she thought it was all a bit weird.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''I've talked to the president, he still didn't look convinced but I got him to reconsider. Meanwhile a television debate has been organized.'' Xavier turned on the television. The news was on.

# ''...incidents involving mutants. The potential danger they bring is becoming more and more evident.'' As said by Robert Kramer. More of this, later, in the live television debate.

Local news. New York City has suffered some mysterious disappearances of children. Authorities are facing a mystery. No clues have yet been found. Police suspect a connection the still unresolved abduction of two men and one woman, a few months ago. However, these are still unfounded suspicions.

Stay tuned. On next, the registration law debate, live on... #

Logan turned off the TV. ''That's what they were talking about! I heard them mentioning something about 'the kids'. I thought they were talking about their own children. Chuck, they have those kids.''

Xavier let the words sink in. ''How come we did not know about these plans?''

''The encoded file. It must be there.'' Hank realized. ''I have still not been able to decode it.'' 

''Let me try decode de file.'' Remy suggested. 

''You can do that?''

~I know who can.~ ''I can try.'' 

''Very well.''

Gambit went to the improvised history classroom. He turned on the computer and composed a message:

'Decode attached file.' He attached the file and sent it to the one man he knew could decode the file in no time. After fifteen minutes he received a message:

'Cher Remy, 

I'm fine, thank you. How are you doing? The attached file has been decoded. 

Hope to see you again some day. Jean-Luc sends his regards and Mattie nearly choked me in an embrace when I told her you sent an e-mail. I'll live.

Lapin. '

Remy smiled bitterly. He wrote a message back:

'Cher Lapin, 

So, the Assassins aren't tracing your e-mail anymore? Took you long enough. Nice to know you're doing fine. Hope to be able to see you all again some day. Say hi to Jean-Luc and Henri for me and give a big hug to Mattie. 

Remy. '

He stared at the screen before sending the message. He really did hope to see them all some day again. Although he was getting more and more comfortable here at the mansion, he did miss his family. He was happy to find that they did seem to miss him as well. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Behind the scenes at the TV debate 

Kramer was naturally invited to the debate. He was in the restroom, pulling his tie straight when his phone rang. He recognized the number.

''What is it?''

''We spotted on of them at the bar yesterday.'' The voice at the other end said. 

''Which one?''

''The one with the claws.''

The man shook his head and sighed. ''And they still dare to claim mutants aren't dangerous...Has he overheard you?''

''I believe so. They know about our location at the warehouse.''

''Damn.''

''Don't worry, we'll have a welcoming committee for them. They won't know what hit them...'' 

''Good. The debate starts in five minutes. Keep me informed.'' He hung up and grinned. Those fools won't know what hit them.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The War-room 

''Okay, they're hiding the missing children at the old warehouse, here.'' Cyclops pointed at a certain location on the map. ''It doesn't look like anything from the outside, but on the inside it must be a pretty well organized base. They intent to use them as guinea pigs, although it is still not clear for what. The only thing we know for sure is that all those children are mutants. What ever it may be, they are in grave danger.''

''We should go there and spy on them. See how they operate, what they do, what their exact plans are.'' Jean suggested.

''The file talks about 'previous failed experiments with deadly consequences'. I think we have to move quickly.'' Hank commented.

''But with caution.'' Cyclops added.

''Gambit could spy on them. I mean, he could get in.'' Jean proposed.

''Yeah.'' Evan agreed. 

''We don't have any plans of the place. They way they're organized and the guns and equipment they used at our previous encounter, no one's gonna be able to get in there if the plans of the place aren't known.'' Scott wisely commented.

''Yeah, but still. We should, like, try. I mean, we have to avoid a fight, right?. Gambit could, like...'' 

''Yes, but Gambit...''

''Achem.'' Remy coughed very audibly. 

''Yes?'' Xavier asked.

''If Gambit can comment on a conversation dat seems t' be revolvin' roun' him, I ain' spyin' on no one.''

''Why not?''

''Dat's not what I do. 'Sides spyin' on dem ain' gonna do us any good.''

''What do you mean?''

''All dat y'r gonna see is a bunch o' terrorists sittin' 'round, waitin' f'r orders an' a mad scientist experimentin'. We know dat already. Kramer's de man y' gotta spy on 'f y' wan' t' know anythin' more, but it be too late now t' do dat. De ball be rollin'. Dose kids are dere, an' we don' even know 'f deir alive not. We gotta stop them, 'fore dey can do more. Permanently.''

''He's got a point.'' Rogue pointed out.

"Dat should tell you somethin' bout how desperate you are. Can' be a good sign when I'm de voice o' reason..." 

''So what do you suggest?'' Storm enquired.

''We fight dem off, save de children. De kids get on de news, dey tell bout who captured dem. Like dat, de FOH gets exposed as a bunch o' dangerous terrorists.''

''But that doesn't solve the core problem. Kramer can always find other people to help him, if not in the form of the FOH, then in some other organization.'' Cyclops said.

''Yeah, what about Kramer. He won't let something like that stop him.'' Bobby mixed in on the conversation as well. 

"I say dead men tell no tails." Remy said fingering a charged card, getting hateful look from the others.

''Gambit.'' The stern voice of Xavier made Gambit roll his eyes.

''It be de truth.'' Some more looks where shot his way. Remy sighed. ''We gotta get dose kids out first, den we deal wid Kramer.''

After some more discussion a plan was formed. They would go to the warehouse, break in and find those children. Hank had insisted on taking the Blackbird, to be able to bring those children to safety as fast as possible. He pointed out that there was enough landing space on the open field near the warehouse. They decided to attack at nightfall. 

''Okay people, we move tonight. And Bobby, you...'' Cyclops began.

''Call me Iceman.'' Bobby stated proudly. He had spent all afternoon finding a nice alias, this one sounded cool. It had that whole vintage yet futuristic sound to it. 

''Ice_man_?'' Remy laughed. ''Call y'rself Iceboy an' y' have a deal.''

''You watch to much cartoons, man.'' Evan agreed.

''I like Iceman...''

''Bobby, when this thing is over, you can have time to find a good alias.''

''Iceman is good...''

''Perhaps, but you won't need an alias now.'' Bobby looked at Xavier with big eyes. ''Bobby, you will stay here. You are not ready for this yet.''

''Oh, come on...''

''That decision is final.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

That night at the warehouse 

The Blackbird had landed without making so much of a sound. Dressed for battle, the x-men silently approached the warehouse. All the windows were checked. No one seemed to be inside. They decided to enter via a backdoor. 

Wolverine got ready to make that door history, but Cyclops stopped him. ''We need to do this as quietly as we can. Besides, they probably put in a lot of security, you might attract them. We must try to get in and out without being spotted. Gambit? Proceed.'' Gambit rolled his eyes. Cyclops in glorious leader mode was without doubt the most horrific thing he had ever witnessed. He made a gesture for everyone to step back. He approached the door with utter care. He examined the hinges and the small window above it. He took another careful look to the lock. ''Steel reinforced door,'' he whispered, loud enough for the rest to hear. ''Hmmm, ultra-pro 6000 security lock, interestin'...'' He rubbed his chin.

''Well?'' Scott asked curiously after Remy had spent five minutes examining the lock.

''Shh. Get back.''

Scott didn't. In stead he leaned in closer. ''Homme, stop breathin' in m' neck.'' Scott made a face. ''At least till y' stop eatin' dose onion pretzels. Do a man a favor.''

After some more examination he looked up to the waiting team and nodded. He cracked his fingers and put one hand on the handle. The tension was rising. Carefully he placed his other hand on the door. He looked back once more. Not looking back he pushed the handle down. With a little push the door opened. ''After you, mes amis.''

''It was open?!'' Cyclops almost shouted. ''You spend the last ten minutes examining an open door?''

''Relax, can' y' take a joke, homme?'' Gambit grinned.

''Not when we're on a mission.'' Cyclops motioned everyone to step closer slowly. Bishop, Gambit and Wolverine got ready to burst in. Claws were itching, cards were grabbed and one mean gun was loaded, o yes, they were ready for action. 

''Wait! Slow down.'' They carefully stepped inside. ''We still don't know who or what we may find here.''

''They won't know what hit them.'' Wolverine's claws came out with a familiar 'snickt'.

''We must proceed with caution. We have to wait for the opportun...''

The clicking of a lot of guns in the complete darkness cut off Scott's explanation. Wolverine could hear it, Gambit could see it, Bishop just knew it. They were surrounded. Slowly the x-men raised their hands in the air.

''Mon ami, 'f y'  were waitin' f'r the opportune moment, y' jus' 'bout missed it right dere..''

************************************************

A/N: Hmmm, this doesn't look to good for our friends, does it? Anyway, I hope the story is a bit clear still. Do warn if I'm getting into too many plot-holes or if it the story is simply not understandable anymore. Hope you liked it even though it was not the best thing I've ever written. It'll get better…

On next: Oh come on, don't pretend you don't know…yes, yes, a fight. Or maybe I'll just have them be imprisoned and have Beast run off with the princess…I'm mixing up stories now…

Review, or I'll sent in the clowns…


	15. Incoming fire has the right of way

Disclaimer: I only own the figments of my delirious imagination.

Star-of-Chaos In chronological order: Read and find out. I don't think so. He should, really. If he wants to appear in any of my fics he will. Well, I hope that answers your questions. :)

Ishandahalf I think that when he was a little baby, he was dropped on the head. Very hard. Very, very hard… 

Lonewolf I just enjoy threatening people. Makes it all a bit more interesting. Yes, I know, I'm evil. So call me Doctor and let me clone myself…

Vagus Eh...here, have some nice hot tea to calm you down. And don't worry, the clowns will not be appearing anytime soon. :)

Dark Elf3 Ah, IM means instant messenger. Probably should've figured that out by myself. I know, I know, I cheated a bit. I'm kinda running low on witty-things-to-say-after-if-you-can't-beat-them here, I mean, so far I've written thirteen of those (twelve if you don't count 'join them')…but I'm trying hard and I can promise you this one will have one. Not a memorable one, but one non the less. I'm building up mystery? Wow…I mean, yes of course, that was my plan all along. Butts will be kicked, but you'll have to read to know whose butt it will be. 

Leann Extensive scientific research has proven that killing somebody can be harmful for that body's health. That's why no one will allow Gambit to kill anyone; bodies don't like to die. 

Peace215 Scott will lighten up, when someone takes the stick out and replaces it with a light bulb. This may be a nice idea for Christmas…I think I've just discovered a gap in the market…Oh Scotty? Come here… ;

A/N Since I am so terrible at writing coherent phrases and paragraphs I have made yet another pathetic excuse not to write beautiful fighting scenes. These are fractions of the fight. Not the whole story, just the key-events. Sorry, hate to do this to you, but look at it this way…better, right?

*******************************************************

_15. The fighting excerpts _

Fissie

They were surrounded. Looking back, they should've probably expected it. Open doors are a bad omen. It's like an old saying says: When the door is open, there are probably a hundred men with guns hidden behind it just waiting for you to step into their trap. 

''Okay, X-men...'' Cyclops whispered while the guns closed in on them. One of the attackers clicked on the lights. Bad idea. Now the x-men knew where to aim. It's good to know your enemy underestimates you. 

Gambit cringed inwardly, his eyes were accustomed to the darkness, and he really did not enjoy the sudden brightness. Not that they knew, and no one needed to know, but still. When his blindness fell away, he was able to see his surroundings. It may have looked like a warehouse on the outside, the inside looked more like a hangar. The ceiling between the ground floor and first floor was destroyed to leave one larger hangar-like space. The place was filled with large steel containers and smaller wooden crates. Something that used to be a helicopter lay to rust in pieces. All the windows were blinded, except for a few high up. Trained thief eyes spotted four escape routes and many security cameras, no doubt part of a large-scale security system. Untrained eyes spotted thirty guns pointed at them, which worked just fine as security system. The guns closed in. 

''NOW!'' Cyclops shouted as he blasted two of the men away, who started shooting. He rolled over his shoulder and stood, ready for battle again. 

''Subtlety ain' y'r strong point ey?'' Came the relaxed comment. ''Where's de style?'' Two cards appeared from nowhere and elegantly slid into his right hand. ''Where's de nuance?'' They hit their target and threw a woman unceremoniously into a wall. ''Y'see, Cycke, it's all in de...''

A growl ended his explanation. ''Stop talking and start fighting, bub.'' 

And this, my friends, is when mayhem began.

Men in Green appeared from everywhere. Men and women, of course, but 'men in green' just sounds better than 'men and women of all sorts of cultural backgrounds and in various ages in green'. 

Cyclops led the fight. ''Stay close. We have more chance in beating them if we stick together.'' 

Within no time, the group divided.

Spike used his ever-working strategy: randomness. Inspired by the tricks he used while skating he dodged every attack. His spikes ensured no one came near him. Of course, all that spontaneous movement made it very hard for Jean to try to cover his back. 

''Spike! Stop moving around like that! I can't aim at anything!''

''Sorry Jean, but I can't! Gotta keep moving...'' He sang while throwing some bony spikes into one of the guns. ''Gotta stay sharp...'' He continued while jumping on some other crates. ''Gotta get...'' His chanting was interrupted a large shadow that indicated something large was hovering over his head. Jean had just been in time to prevent the container from being dropped on his head. He looked up and saw the people responsible for the falling of the container. They were held still by Jean's telepathic beam. 

''Could you get away from there! I won't be able to hold it for long!''

Spike realized he hadn't moved yet and jumped to another crate. The container smashed into the crate he had been standing on seconds before, squashing it like a fly. In return of the favor, Spike threw some bony spikes to the immobilized people. 

Gambit smashed one of the men into the ground. He planted one foot on his stomach and held the tip of his charged bo-staff right above the man's throat. He grinned evilly and started to lower the bo towards the man's neck, nearer and nearer and nea...

''Remember, X-men don't kill!'' He heard Cyclops say from somewhere. 

Gambit looked up and surprise, the tip of the bo was mere inches away from burning into the man's throat. ''What? Cyclops! What d' y' mean 'don' kill'? At all? Come on, dis is self-defense!'' He said while pointing at the helpless man on the ground. He looked around but he couldn't spot Cyclops. Remy sighed. ''An' y' pick dis moment in time to enlighten me bout dat little detail?!'' In this moment of distraction, the bo was lowered to the floor right beside the man's head. 

''Sorry.'' The apology didn't reach Gambits ears due to the fact that he got smashed into a steel container by that very man whose throat he was close to scorching. 

Wolverine caught him before he hit the ground. Eager to get back into the fight, he lay the kid down against the wall to wake up. 

''You okay, Gumbo?'' Two demon eyes did not open. ''Kid, wake up.''

Nothing happened. 

''Kid, come on.'' Wolverine started to shake the unconscious body. ''Wake the fuck up!'' 

Remy coughed and slowly regained consciousness again.

''Mind not shakin' m' like a martini.'' He said still a bit groggy. 

Wolverine dropped the Cajun on the floor. ''Well, that solves one problem.'' He grunted.   
''What?'' Remy asked while rubbing his head.  
''You won't be needing mouth to mouth.'' With that Wolverine left the kid and continued fighting. 

Storm tried to use lightning to fight the two off, but indoors lightning never worked too well, so she was limited to using wind. No problem. A tornado blew a man and a woman through a high window but they managed to hold themselves to a ledge, only just barely. 

''She's the one who uses lightning. Didn't you see it? We have to...'' One whispered to the other. Storm flew after them through the window. Thunderclouds gathered to meet with her. She was outside now, no limitations, no restrictions. 

''Lightning, my friends? You have not seen lighting.'' She said calmly. The pair of FOH'ers heard the thunder, felt the rain, saw the light. ''_This_ is lightning!'' A massive bolt of lightning lit the skies and thunder roared through the air. The two assailants landed in the nearby pond, scorched and wet. They would not be bothering her tonight anymore. 

''Gambit!'' Rogue flung herself to the attackers that tried to sneak up on Remy from behind and knocked one of them out.

Gambit turned around and kicked the other on the head, while leaning slightly on this bo-staff. ''Chere, dat almost sounded like you were worried.'' The kick threw the man in Rogue's direction. She, in turn, stomped him in Gambit's direction again. ''You wish Cajun.''

The same man was stomped back to Rogue by Gambit. ''I know it, chere.''

This was what you might call bad-guy Ping-Pong. The man got kicked back to Gambit again. ''Oh really? Then you must know Ah couldn't care less about ya. ''

And back to Rogue again. ''Aw, come on chere. Admit it. Y' like dis Cajun Swamp Rat.''

Rogue punched the man back to Gambit hard. ''In your dreams.''

The man never reached Gambit again; instead he fell to the ground, knocked out. Gambit stepped over the body and closed in on Rogue. ''Only m' sweetest.'' He took her hand and kissed her glove.

''Get lost!'' She shouted as she shook her hand away. Gambit grinned and left to fight some of the Men in Green that had just recently arrived. 

Rogue stood still for a brief moment. Why did she enjoy that kiss? Why did she feel nice because of it? This guy was the lowest life form on the planet. Then why on earth did she feel this way? ~Ah'm going mad. Ah just know it.~ Mindlessly she knocked out some guy in a green coat.

Cyclops was encountering some difficulties. The blasts were aimed at his visor. Did they know that he would be lost and blind without it? Anyway, he was pretty much succeeding in shaking them off. From the corner of his visor he could see Gambit grinning, charging up a card and closing in on one of their attackers. It was the grin of a madman ready to kill. ~If that guy could just listen for once in his life!~ It would make everything so much easier. Then he would be able to focus on his own fight, instead of having to watch over someone else's fight, with the sole purpose of saving the life of an enemy. Things were getting confusing. As Gambit threw his arm back to launch the card, he warned him once more.

''Gambit! I told you X-men don't kill!'' A blow to the visor was scarcely dodged. 

The grin disappeared from the Cajun's face. ''_I_ know dat, _you_ know dat, but _dey_ don' know dat.'' As he spoke the last words he flung the card hitting it's target. Cyclops punched his own attacker into some crates and turned his attention back to Gambit. He frowned.

''What?'' Gambit was genuinely surprised. He followed Cyclops gaze toward the bleeding man. ''He'll live. Sure, dat arm won' do him much good no more, but he'll live.'' The frown did not disappear from his team-leader's face. ''Could've aimed at his head, y'know...'' Alas, this disagreement had to wait until after the fight. New attackers emerged and the battle continued. Where did those people come from? The doors at the other end of the hangar-like space did not open at any time. It almost looked as if they just materialized out of thin air. 

Shadowcat was putting on a great fight. But she had to admit; all that phasing was wearing her down. She didn't know how much longer she would be able to keep it up. They had not counted on so many of them. And the fight they put up was amazing. Those weapons...and no matter how many of them they beat, there would always appear more. She saw Rogue getting into some trouble, one of her sleeves had been torn apart and she was trying hard not to let anyone touch her. Shadowcat ran over to her, grabbed her covered arm and phased with her through the rusting helicopter and some crates, to a more quiet section. 

''Let me go!'' Rogue shouted. Her mind was set on pay-back to the man who had ripped her outfit.

''Right, like, no need for thank yous''

''Ah could've handled them fine by mahself!''

"If having all their minds in your head is, like, your definition of 'handling them', I totally agree with you."

''He ripped mah outfit.''

''Here,'' Kitty ripped off one sleeve of her own costume and took a few safety pins out of a pocket. ''Take this and pin it on.''

''You always carry safety pins around?''

''Tottaly. They're, like, essential basics in any girl's gear.''

''Riiight.'' But no matter how stupid it sounded, it was highly effective. Within seconds, Rogue was up and ready to kick some butt. 

Bishop aimed his gun at Gambit for the umpteenth time since he had entered this era. ~Dieu, can' dat man pick some oder time t' try an' kill m'?~ Of course, Gambit didn't see the two men approach him from behind. His senses were too mixed up, his spatial awareness was running low. He didn't notice two men as they got ready to pound a heavy metal bar onto his head. The only thing Gambit saw was a yellow beam passing his head at mere inches. He was going to comment on it, when he heard the beam strike two bodies behind him. At that point Gambit realized he had just been saved. 

''Thanks mon ami.'' He said, a bit surprised, a much relieved. 

''You would have done the same.'' Bishop replied.

''Don' count on it.''

''We shall see. For now, let us smash these roaches back to the holes they came from.'' 

This statement brought a smile on Remy's face. ''Love it when y' talk dirty, cher!'' The fight continued. 

Nightcrawler was teleporting and knocking people out just with the smell of his powers. Normally, he didn't like people hating that smell, but now, he couldn't be complaining. It saved him. More than once. 

Beast was not a fighter. He was a doctor. Of course, when attacked he would not be shy to use force. And when a fellow team-mate was attacked he could get quite feral. So when he saw Nightcrawler in a distressful situation, he assaulted the Men in Green that had caught the poor kid by the surprise squeezing the life out of him. He couldn't move, and, somehow, he couldn't teleport either. 

When the assailants were all in need of medical attention, but not so urgently, as the considerate doctor had ensured, the hurried to the shaking Nightcrawler.    

''I never saw zem coming! I couldn't teleport! I don't know vhy. I just couldn't!''

''This is most peculiar to say the least. But it's good to see you're still well.'' 

'Yeah, vell, I'm not too happy about it. Zey wanted to make fuzzy blue mash!''

''Can you teleport agian?'' A small demonstration proved he could. ''Good. I'm afraid we are not done fighting yet. Perhaps we can discuss this phenomenon later?'' 

''Ja, bitte. For now, just look behind you and tell me you know vat to do.'' 

Beast looked around and saw a new line of people coming. ''Oh yes, my German companion, I know what to do.'' A feral growl, one of those rare growls Hank would let go, and that group of FOH-people knew they were in trouble. 

Sometimes Gambit scared himself. Balancing on the thin line between life and death, daring his fate, beating the shit out of people, he didn't remember the last time he had had so much fun. His face was set on maniacal-grin. His eyes glowed. Part of it was training; he knew how to scare people. Part of it was true and actual enjoyment. He saw Bishop being attacked by five men at the same time. Cards would not suffice, so he took a piece of wood from one of the smashed boxes, charged it and flung it toward them, hitting all five assailants but not Bishop. 

''Thank you.'' Something that looked like a smile crept on his face for about one quarter of a second. 

''Don' mention it. Us family, we have t'stick togeder.'' Gambit answered in low and truthful voice and a bit louder he added. ''But enough wid dat. We ain' finished yet. An' dis fat lady don' look like she gon' be singin' any time soon 'f we don' do somethin' bout it.''

Some more men in green approached them fast. Bishop gave in a warrior growl and launched himself at them like a man who lost his mind. Which was close enough to the truth. 

Gambit smirked. ''If you can' beat dem, ravage dem like a maniac, non Bish?'' He said while summer salting over a few crates and a few men.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

They had been fighting for over half an hour now. And Spike was not happy about the way this fight turned out at all. Every move he made, no matter how illogical, was predicted and counteracted. It seemed as though they saw every move coming. Nothing surprised them and worst of all, nothing hit them.

A few Men in Green had closed in on Storm. She fought her best, and was succeeding. She didn't see the crates above her. She didn't notice them being dropped on her. No one heard her scream as the crates closed her in. Did those men know she was claustrophobic?

Rogue was getting cornered by a few of them, she had fought them off pretty well so far, but now the safety pins were ripped off, they were trying to close in on her and touch her. At least, that's what it looked like. ~They act like Kamikaze-pilots. It's almost like they want to touch me on purpose.~ Remembering what she felt like after the last time she absorbed some of them, she fought like her life depended on it. It did.

Jean was worried. The fight did not go according to plan. According to plan, they should've gotten the children out of there within twenty minutes. They had been fighting for over an hour now. 

It almost seemed as though those men knew what they had coming. As if they knew every move made and every weakness. No, not according to plan at all. Jean tried to warn the Professor telepathically, but was stopped by a huge hook being dropped on her, she needed all her strength to prevent that heavy thing from falling on her head. 

They caught Kitty by surprise, she didn't even have time to phase through them. She was just too tired. Kurt jumped to her side and teleported them both out of the heat of the battle. He tried to get her to safety, when he was caught by the tail. He dropped Kitty to the floor and got pounded into some debris himself. 

Jean saw it and shouted in every direction: ''Beast! Come over here! Hurry!''

Beast came as quick as he could to see what he could do. ''CYCLOPS! WE MUST FALL BACK! Jean, you carry Kitty, I'll take Kurt.'' 

Cyclops realized it was true. This strategy was getting them nowhere. ''YOU HEARD THE MAN, X-MEN! RETREAT!'' A thing he didn't need to shout twice. Rogue caught up on Evan and they both ran out as fast as they could. Bishop ran right behind them, covering them. Wolverine grabbed Storm on his way out, who had fainted from fear. He sniffed one last time. Good, everyone was out of there. 

They got out of there, beaten, but generally unharmed. A few sprained ankles, a lot of very tired kids, but no real casualties. Luckily no one had followed them out. They got into the Blackbird and got ready for lift-off. Priority number one was getting the hell out of there. 

Maybe they could form another plan. Maybe they could spy on them after all. Maybe they could...

''Where is he?'' Rogue asked. Five seconds of silence followed. Then realization struck the team. No one had seen Gambit for a while. The Cajun wasn't there. 

''Gone!'' Bishop smashed his hand into the first thing in sight. A peaceful chair. ''The bastard, he escaped!'' Words could not describe his fury. How could he be so foolish? He should've killed him the second he dropped to this century. 

''Maybe he's injured. We have to go back...'' Jean urged. 

''We can't go back. We can't take any more. They'll kill us for sure if we do that. We must form another strategy.'' Scott realized. 

''He could still be there...'' Rogue tried staring out of one of the small windows of the Blackbird. 

Wolverine put a hand on her covered shoulder. ''He ain't there, kid. I would've smelled it.'' He tapped his nose to prove his point. 

Rogue looked back at the building once more as the Blackbird took for the sky. Was he really gone? Had he really escaped? Could he be the traitor after all? ~Ah can't believe it. Remy?~

*******************************************************

A/N: Hmmm. This looks pretty bad, doesn't it? Bet you didn't see this one coming, did you?

On next: Where's Remy? Where's my common sense? Ah, and so the mind ponders…

Review, I need reviews like fish need water, like pigs need mud, like trees need rain, like this world needs Bush…hmmm, can't help but feeling something went wrong here…something just doesn't sound right…I wonder…

A/N Btw, did you notice my personal, somewhat weak, attempt to correct the most horrific punch line in the history of comics and cartoons? Can you guess which one it is? Let me give you a hint: it starts with ''do you know what happens…'' and ends with ''…to a toad when it's struck by lightning? The same thing that happens to any other animal.'' (or something like that) I mean, it's not funny. It's not witty. It's not even true! Different things happen to different animals. When a toad is struck by lightning it will be scorched until nothing's left of it but some feeble black ashes. When a cow is struck by lightning it will be steak. Anyway, I hope you liked this 'fighting chapter' (although it is terribly written and, well I'm really not that happy about it, but I got tired of reading it over and over again) and sorry for this last burst of frustration, but I just needed to get it out of my system…I'm fine now, thank you.


	16. I always keep my word, in a jar

Disclaimer: I don't even own the computer I'm writing this on....

Star-of-Chaos All right, I succeeded in making something of a cliffhanging suspension thingie. Wow. And thanx for liking the Storm line, I just needed to do that. 

Caliente Read this chapter and you'll know what happened. Sort of. One tiny question: when you say that Remy and Bishop are 'uber' tight together, is that a good thing or a bad thing? I know 'uber' mean 'above' in German, but are they a bit too tight or. or what? *apologetic look* anyway, thanx for liking it. 

Dark Elf3 Kill, I dunno, maybe not so much as 'kill' but more something along the lines of 'lethally injure'. It's all in the way you say it..

ishandahalf I'm hurrying as much as I can, but my mind sometimes refuses to cooperate....generally in two situations: 1) when I am, 2) when I'm not. 

Jordanz Great! My story is great! *sigh* I'm happy now.....

wyndsong *buries head in shame* I do not believe I wrote that.*sees mental picture*...although…maybe.no, I must correct it! Thanx for pointing it out!

Ima Super Mute Ant Wow, what did you have for breakfast? Wait, did you say geniusly wonderful? Ah, thou appreciates good literature when thou comes across it.

AGST Medio-core is pun(k). It's a song about how so much music is not original nowadays (although I know a lot of people who would say the same about punk, not to my face though, people fear me.....). But Gambit doesn't know the song, so for him it was a pun. It's just a pun with a background story. Can I have Remy back for the story please? Or maybe I'll just borrow Johnny Depp.

Leann Glad you liked my 'fighting scenes'. Gambit does talk a lot, but you'd be amazed on how little he actually says. 

A/N There's nothing like a useless saying. 

************************************************************

16. Green is not my favorite color 

Fissie

Some more men in green approached them fast. Bishop gave in a warrior growl and launched himself at them like a man who lost his mind. Which was close enough to the truth. 

Gambit smirked. ''If you can' beat dem, ravage dem like a maniac, non Bish?'' He said while somersaulting over a few crates and a few men. Blasting those away, he jumped over a container, aided by his bo. 

No one saw him after that...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The trip home was silent; no one dared to speak. Bishop's fists had been clenched so tight that they had been deprived of any blood rushing through. Scott had a I-told-you-so face, but didn't say anything. Somewhere even he had started to believe the Cajun was one of them in the end and would not betray them. He was wrong. Jean wished she could have just peeked inside his mind, but rapidly dismissed the thought hoping the professor had not picked up on it. Beast was too busy helping Kurt and Kitty back to the land of the living to think about anything else. Storm did not believe he would ever betray them, they were his friends after all. She was certain of this. She hoped her determination would not prove false. Wolverine never thought of the kid as a traitor. Sure, the kid lied, didn't listen to any rules, didn't know about discipline and didn't trust anyone, but a traitor...It fit the picture all too perfectly. But his nose had never deceived him, the kid didn't smell like he would do that. Rogue just stared out of the window. She didn't want to think about it. Why would he betray them? What possible motives could he have? She couldn't help but thinking about it. 

They got out of the Blackbird and headed directly to the War-Room. Xavier was already there, waiting for them. He had already been informed of what had happened.

Once seated, Bishop couldn't help but saying the thought that had haunted his mind. ''It's too late now. I should've killed him when I had the chance. I have failed.'' His voice was bitter. 

''Bishop, we are not dead yet. Let us not jump to conclusions.'' Storm said, trying to comfort the man from the future. 

''Why would Gambit team up with the Friends Of Humanity?'' Such a simple question, but no one could give Evan an answer.

''It didn't seem as though he would run off with the FOH. It I hadn't interfered he would have killed them.'' Scott said, more to convince himself than anyone else.

''Maybe that's just what he wanted us to think.'' Wolverine indicated. 

''He's an obvious mutant himself. Why would he work with people who would kill him if they knew how his eyes looked? It makes no sense.'' Jean wondered. 

''Maybe he did not betray us to FOH, but the fact remains that he got away. Alive. He could team up with anyone.'' Bishop reasoned.  

''Why would he do that? Why would he want to betray us? He's with us now.'' Rogue was certain she didn't need to hear the answer. But Bishop told her anyway.

''Money.'' A simple statement, yet full with accusation.

''Money? Never.''

''Harleys like that don't pay themselves, kid.'' Wolverine acknowledged. 

''He's a thief. In my time, he works and deals with humans, like he's one of them. Money is the only thing that drives him.''

''I do not believe that. He cares for us.'' Storm knew that had to be true. Though Remy would never say so himself, she saw it in his eyes. Remy cared for them, like a family. 

''He cares for fine art, but he sells it the highest bidders, to criminals, murderers, it makes no difference to him.'' 

''We're his friends. ''

Bishop raised his voice. ''Not his friends, merely people he lives with until something better comes up. And apparently, something better came up.''

''He did make that mysterious phone-call.'' Rogue hadn't said it to anyone in particular, actually, she thought she hadn't even said is aloud, but everyone looking at her proved her wrong. 

''What phone-call?''

She didn't mean to accuse Remy, but all the facts had to be put on the table. ''To some guy, Ah think. He gave Remy an address, but Ah don't know what they were talking about. It's probably got nothing to do with this.''

''But it might! Can't recall anything of it?'' Scott tried. 

And so, accusations were made, rejected, denied, made again, proven, dismissed, verified. And the accused wasn't there to say anything in his own defense.  

After fifteen more minutes of discussion, Xavier put an end to all the unfounded, random allegations. ''We are jumping to conclusions. One is innocent unless proven guilty. He could have been captured like the other children. Now, I have understood that they matched your every move. They predicted our every strategy. I do believe this indicates that they know about us.''

''Xavier is quite right. I propose we invent a new strategy. But first let us all regain greatly needed strength. There is nothing we can do now.''  Beast got ready to return to his Lab. 

''Very well. I will see you tomorrow morning.''

It was three in the morning, they would discuss new tactics tomorrow morning at six o'clock. Rogue walked up to her room wondering what strength she would regain during a three-hour sleep. 

She sat on the bed, tired, but not being able to sleep, so she turned on the radio. Kitty would spend that night at the MedLab, with Kurt. She took the necklace and stared at it. Given to her by a stupid flirty Cajun. One day he could made her blood boil, and another day he could make her laugh, but only to herself, naturally. And as her encounters with him passed through her head, one thought came back every time. He never kept her at arms-length. He didn't flinch when she came near. He never backed off, even if she tried to beat it into his thick skull that she didn't want him close to her. But didn't she? She remembered his embrace, the moment they shared on the roof. That was rather nice. But she couldn't allow anyone to come close to her. Did she? And the kiss on her glove...~Am Ah fallin' for dat snake charmer?~ She searched her mind for something that made sense. Nothing did. Only once conclusion was possible. She was indeed falling for him. Hard. ~Damn.~ 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Some more men in green approached them fast. Bishop gave in a warrior growl and launched himself at them like a man who lost his mind. Which was close enough to the truth. 

Gambit smirked. ''If you can' beat dem, ravage dem like a maniac, non Bish?'' He said while somersaulting over a few crates and a few men. Blasting those away, he jumped over a container, aided by his bo. 

He leaned with his back to the container. He looked around and saw no one. ~Good.~ He minimized his bo with a twirl and hid it back in one of the many pockets of his yet again torn trench. There was big gap just below the left shoulder. He looked around again and confirmed no one was looking. ~Let's do dis.~ 

Carefully he took off his coat. He hissed slightly as he pulled his left arm out. His suit was torn and a big bloody gash was now clearly visible on his upper arm. ~Body armor, my ass.~ He scolded to himself. He reached to his coat and took out a bandana he always carried around. ~Dose guns passed right through it.~ he continued thinking. Cautiously he tied the bandana tightly over the wound. Not perfect, but it would have to do for now. ~Wonder 'f de Assassins know o' dese guns dat can pass though dis armor...Note to self, call an' warn Jean-Luc.~ He put his trench back on and stood up. ~Good as new.~

At that precise moment five Men in Green approached him. Guns set to kill, but no one shot. Instead they just closed in on him.

''What? Dere be a party here an' no one invited me? Dat's not very nice.'' He tried to calm them with his charm, but it didn't work. They closed in some more. They had him cornered. He didn't like being cornered, it made him feel trapped. He could have panicked. In stead he grinned. 

''Well, mes amis. Anyone of y' in f'r a game o' cards?'' He got ready to charge an entire deck of cards when suddenly a flash of bright light pierced into his eyes. He wanted to scream of pain. His eyes hurt as if a hundred needles were being stabbed into them. All sense of direction was lost, as he fell to the floor that seemed like miles away. 

Dizzy and disoriented he tried to get up, realizing too late that he was being held back as fists and feet plunged into his face, chest and stomach. He tried to escape, but he couldn't find a way out this situation. He couldn't let the floor underneath him explode, he most likely wouldn't survive the blow himself. So instead, tried to charge anything that came to hands to throw it away, but nothing did, someone was holding his hands in the air. The beating continued and slowly Remy began to loose consciousness. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_The following morning, 06.00._

''I have tried to locate Gambit with Cerebro, but I didn't succeed.''

''As suspected.''

''Yes...''

Kurt came in last, he had gone back to his room, the one he shared with Gambit. The professor had asked him to look into his drawers and find anything, any sort of clue to help them decide what to do.

''I found zis in our room. It are copies of our perzonal files. Zey were in Remy's drawer.''

''LeBeau must've passed on information to them.'' Bishop just knew it. 

''We do not know that.'' Xavier insisted. 

Hank had been awake all three hours. He never was one to sleep much. He had come to the conclusion that they weren't going to reach a final decision on what to do about Gambit's disappearance. ''If we can leave the Gambit-issue to a side for a moment, there are children there who require rescuing.''

''Yes, we must focus on that, now.''

New tactics were invented; it was a cunning plot. They decided to use image-inducers to make each team-member look like someone else on the team, thus masking their powers and surprising the enemy. It sounded like such a ridiculous plan that it might even succeed. Every ten minutes the image-inducer would change the image, so that no one would re-associate new appearances with new powers. Once the Men in Green were beaten, they could storm into the other rooms of the building in search of the missing children and to dismantle the FOH from the core. 

''Dismantle, not disintegrate. We still need evidence.'' Xavier added as a last comment looking at Bishop and Wolverine. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Two eyes opened slowly. A moan escaped his mouth when he felt a syringe plunge into his arm. His neck felt cold. Everything hurt. He gathered his thoughts. ~Dey used light. Did dey know?~ Gambit was not one to give up easily, so he tried to pull himself up. ~ 'f y' can' beat dem...~ He tried to manage a smile, but his face hurt too much. Slowly he pushed himself up. But his arms were too weak to hold any weight and he fell back to the ground. ~...never mind.~ Two eyes closed again. A motionless body lay on the floor.

************************************************************

A/N Oh no! The bad guys got him. What did _you_ think? That he had escaped? That he would betray the x-men? Shame on you for not trusting him....Then again, who knows what might be next.

Anyway this chapter was short, and didn't have much to laugh about....sorry. But hey, it had a plan, right? A plan.yes, I call that a plan..don't laugh at me in my face..Could you at least close the door, I can still see you laughing.

I hope my flashback-recap-thingy was a bit clear.

On next: Is he? Could he? Be dead?

Review or the answer will be 'yes'.


	17. Just when you think it can't get worse

Disclaimer: ...take one *hiccup* down, pass it around, one bottle of beer on the wall. *hiccup* I own one bottle of beer on the wall, one *hiccup* bottle of beer, take one down smash it around...oh, it broke *hiccup*...oh well...I own ninety-nine bottles of scotch on the wall...

Caliente This chapter might change your mind about the 'defect'ness of Gambit. He's not entirely sane, you'll see.

Dark Elf3 He-he. I mean, no, don't fall! Look here's more, see, a non-evil but definitely not very healthy Remy.

AGST I'm trying very hard, but frankly, I'm not succeeding. And, no, he's not dead, naturally, but hey, I had to say something, right?

Ishandahalf Hasn't it always been like that? And yes, it does look pretty bad, and it's not getting much better soon.

_shadow Come up here, don't go falling or anything. See? A new chappy, be happy. :)

Leann He should be able to get out, he is a thief after all, but…well, just read and you'll see...

Emma Welcome back, then. Glad you still like it. Good, the flashback was all right, that's good. 

Ima Super Mute Ant Okay, brunch or perhaps linner. And maybe you should have some doughnuts with that coffee...

Lonewolf I'm game if I can be Minister and Keeper of Insanity Writing. And if I can have a large pool with piranhas to swim freely and enjoy their occasional fanficwriter-lunch...

Epona Don't worry, here's more…;)

A/N Warning: This chapter contains a dead body. If you don't want to read about it, stop reading right after 'it smelled like hell in there' and skip that entire paragraph... 

***********************************************************

_I'm not as think as you drunk I am._

Fissie

Slowly Remy woke up. ~Hello world.~ He felt incredibly dizzy and didn't dare opening his eyes that felt like they were on fire. Instantly he started determining his location by touching everything in reach with his hands, his spatial awareness still too dazed to be able to help him. Lesson number one when you don't know where you are: find out. Not all Guild lessons were equally ingenious, but all were very useful and very true. 

First he determined his own status. Aside of incredibly nauseous and dazed. He touched his neck, a metal collar was tied around it. He didn't wear his coat any more and his left sleeve was ripped off. The bandana around his arm had been replaced with an actual bandage. It didn't hurt as much, so he suspected the wound had been cleaned. ~How considerate of dem.~

He felt himself lying on a soft surface, probably a mattress. Hands continued searching, the mattress lay on the floor in a corner of whatever the room was he was in. He touched the wall on his right, they were pretty damp concrete and crumbly. He touched the floor, which was a combination of dirt and dust and felt equally damp. ~Damp room, mattress on de floor...~ Remy strongly got the feeling he was not going to like the place he was in. One thing still needed to be found to be able to found his suspicions. Slowly his left arm stretched out. Before his arm was fully stretched he bumped into something plastic. Remy's suspicions proved right. A bucket. Ah, the wonderful comfort of modern hygienic-facilities. No, Remy was definitely not going to like this place. 

Lesson number one when you just found out were you are and have determined that you do not like it there: get out. Slowly Remy pushed himself into a more or less upright position. ~Dieu.~ he placed an arm on a wall in support and lifted himself to a standing position. He stepped off the mattress still clutching to the wall, hoping that he would be able to stand better on solid ground. That seemed to work. He tried taking a few steps to determine the size and features of his new surroundings. He took one small step, away from the wall and lost his balance. ~Whoa, gravity.~ He fell flat on his face on the dirty ground. ~Ouch.~ Consciousness was lost again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He woke to find himself facedown in the dirt with a completely numb right arm and a mouth filled with dust. He lifted his head and spat the sand out. ~Okay, focus.~ The small request was impossible to comply, so instead he rolled himself back on the mattress. In his wait for blood to come back into his arm he realized that it was actually a quite comfy mattress, it felt new. When he felt his arm again, he lifted himself, sitting up and resting his head against the wall. He rubbed his temples. ~Did I drink a whole liquor store or somethin'? Can someone find me a new head?~ Silently he prayed for a large cup of coffee to come down to him from heaven. ~Dey mus' have drugged m' big time. Never felt dis hung over before in m' life. Gonna be sick sometime soon.~ A prepared thief was a successful thief and so he took the bucket, placed it next to him and begged to whoever would listen. ~Please let de bucket be new. De mattress is new, so de bucket is new too, right?...Please...~ A light sniff in the correct direction assured him that the bucket was indeed new and had not been used before. Apparently, he was the first one to inhabit this room. For that, he was grateful.

Suddenly and not welcomly the events of earlier started to replay in his mind. Cold shivers ran down his spine as realization of his situation struck him. The beatings, the cold around his neck, the syringe... He clenched his fists felt his anger boiling. ~Someone's gonna pay for dis, someone's...~ A voice echoed in his brain, ~X-men don't kill, X-men don't kill, remember Gambit, X-men don't kill.~ The voice bore an uncanny resemblance to Scott's voice. ~Great, m' conscience sounds like Four-eyes now. You treacherous mind.~ He let his anger fade just enough to assess current situations.

They must have taken him prisoner after the beatings. ~Let's see. I'm here alone, have no sense o' where at all, don' know where de rest o' de team is...Dis qualifies as a problem.~ 

He opened his eyes, slowly, now that the sting was getting less. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. He rubbed his eyes again and looked again. He saw absolutely nothing. ~Great. I can see well in dark but dis is ridiculous. I need a light.~ He raised his fingertip to create a little light, but the familiar pink glow did not appear ~Problem just got bigger.~ 

The collar was getting real uncomfortable. But what was its use? It didn't tie him to anything...

Apparently Remy's brain decided that he had thought enough for the moment and he slipped back into oblivion. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He woke up with a start and sat right up, immediately regretting the movement. Finally, after days of thinking he came up with something useful. ~I remember! Kramer wanted some files 'bout experimental technology on mutant power restriction oh damn de collar~ He sighed long and deep ~Why did m' brain hav' t' wait so long t' remember? Merde.~ Timing is essential, any thief should know. Of course the whole thing had played over one and a half year ago, so who could blame him for forgetting. He touched the collar. ~I can.~ But a thief would not be a thief without the essential lock-pick. Luckily Remy had one in the sleeve of his right arm aside of the whole arsenal in his coat.   ~Now, where's de lock on dis thin'?~ He fiddled the collar a bit. ~ No lock?...Not even a seem?~ He touched a small disturbance in the collar. ~ Aha! A seem!...Dat brought me no closer t' gettin' it off whatsoever.~ 

Numerous attempts to getting the thing off failed. While reaching the conclusion that he would not be able to get the thing off in his current state of mind, he remembered that Kramer had still needed guinea pigs to test his technology on and he had asked Gambit to find people for him. Remy had refused the offer, despite of the million dollars attached to the job. No way was Remy recruiting any people for any purpose for any mad scientist at any time, ever.

He slowly stood up, finally beating gravity. ~Dey put me in here, dere gotta be a way out. I am a Master Thief, I get out here in no time.~ It was a very small room. A very small room with concrete walls and no door. Expert hands trailed along the walls in search of the slightest imperfection.

~Where's de fuckin' exit?~ He heard voices coming from above him. ~Great I'm in a hole in de ground. How high is dis thing?~

He saw a tiny beam of light coming from above and estimated the room had to be...pretty damn high. But that wasn't going to stop him. Time to get out. He stretched both arms and determined the width of the room. ~Should be okay...~ He placed his back in one of the walls. ~'F m' head could jus' stop poundin'.~ 

He placed one foot on one wall and with a slight jump he placed the other foot the opposite wall. His two legs made an angle of 180 degrees. ~Hurray for agility.~ He shuffled one foot a tiny step up, holding his hands on the wall at his back as support. Unfortunately, those two hands decided not to cooperate any longer. ~Hurray.~ He fell butt down on the floor and slipped to unconsciousness once again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He woke up from a dream. A dream about a nice, warm, white beach with nice, cool, blue seawater and a nice brown hair white-streaked girl at his side. Remy sighed. ~Face it LeBeau, dat girl, she be gettin' to y'.~ He didn't really mind, he realized he really did like her a lot, but his timing was terrible. Then again, he was married, so his timing would suck either way. 

Sighing again, he realized he was not in bed, in his room, but on the floor in a dark room. He stood up and began to understand the situation once more. ~Oh, right. Where was I?~ He placed his feet in the same positions again and leaned into the wall at his back, supporting his weight with his hands. 

Slowly but surely, he started climbing his way up. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~ One step. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~ Another step. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~ Another step. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~ 

This mantra continued until his head bumped on the lid that separated this hole with the outside world. ~I Made it! I am Spiderman!...No, I'm Superman! I'm King o' de...Woah...~ He was this close to loosing his balance, and he doubted he would survive the fall. 

He wanted to open the lid when he saw a beam of light shine through a tiny seem in the top. By the way it moved, Remy assumed it was a flashlight. ~Could it be t' get m' blind and disorientated again?~

''Shall I get him?'' Remy cringed at the sound of a voice. Undoubtedly they were talking about getting him. ~Not now, not now, not now...~ He didn't much feel like being spotted in this position.  

''No, not yet. Not until the drugs wear off. You overdid it a bit.''

~A bit? Did he say drugs, as in more den one drug? No wonder I feel like dis.~

''I'll come back later, then.''

''Yes, let us check on the others.'' Two pairs of shoes walked away talking inaudibly. 

~De oders? Dey got de rest o' de team as well? Merde.~

He waited until the voices died out to make his move. He pushed the lid to find that it didn't even have a lock. Not that he, Master Thief, would not be able to open it, but he was grateful non the less that he didn't have to. He was still drowsy and nauseous and had a hard time focussing on anything. 

He opened the lid just slightly and cringed at the sudden wave of light. It wasn't all that bright, but his eyes accustomed too well to the dark. Actually, it was quite dark, which explained the flashlight those two had used to come to him. 

He peeked through and spotted one camera above him, or actually, just a little red light, hidden behind one of the iron grilles in the ceiling. He took in his surroundings, without making a sound and without moving the lid more than absolutely necessary. The camera could not spot that slight movement. 

They must've been out of proper cells to put him in and dumped him in a hole in the ground. That was the only explanation he could find for the poorly guarded place he was currently escaping from. They must've thought he was helpless without powers and doped with drugs. He loved being underestimated. Dazed as he was, he got out without so much as causing a shadow to appear on the camera. 

He moved up to the ceiling and without making a sound he pushed another grille in and lifted himself to the space between the ceiling and the floor above. It was a fairly dark space, filled with tubes and electric wires. He tried to clear his head once more and started thinking.

~Check list. Find trench coat. Find cards. Find a way out o' here. Find de rest. Get dis damn collar off. Find a toilet.~ At that precise moment in time, his stomach gave up on him. He threw up. ~Okay, scratch toilet...Hey, did I eat carrot?~ He started crawling, trying to focus on what he had to do, but a thought crept into his mind. It bothered him that they had known to use bright light to blind and disorient him. That was not a good sign at all.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He stopped crawling when he reached a room. It smelled like hell in there and he couldn't see anything, the restriction collar prevented his night sight, but he really wanted to stretch his back and all that crawling had only made his headache worse. Besides, he needed clues as to where he was. Carefully he jumped on the floor. He didn't dare turning on any lights. Not that he could find a light switch, anyway. With his hands in front of him, he started walking. 

He reached a table, a hard, cold steel table. With his hands he traced the surface. His hand winced as he felt a peculiar shape. Curious, both hands, now, patted the contours. He couldn't move. ~ Mon Dieu~ It was a face. A cold, hard, yet squeezable face. He froze at the realization. He was touching a dead body. With his bare hands. ~I never be able t' eat wid dese hands ever again.~ His hands traced along the body. It was a man. A dead naked man, he presumed, because no way he was going to touch him there to find out just how undressed this person really was. He felt the man's neck. A collar was tight around it. It was the same type of collar Remy was wearing.

He bumped into another steel examination table. Carefully he tried touching the surface. This body had been covered with a wet cloth. Remy was getting a bit anxious. ~How many dead bodies do dese people keep in here?~

Slowly, his mind started recapitulating events. Kramer had requested Remy to find subjects for him right after he had stolen the information on mutant power restriction. He recalled the kidnap of several adults a few months ago. Kramer must have found other ways of getting his testing subjects. Could this man have been used as guinea pig? And now this man was dead. ~ What if I had accepted de job? What if I had kidnapped dose people he asked me to?~ If he had been involved, maybe he could have prevented their deaths. Maybe he would've seen what was going on in time. Maybe he could've saved them. Maybe...

He stood there for a second more, pretending it was the stench of the damp cloth that made him sick. ~I need to get out o' dis room.~ He climbed back up and crawled away from that horrid place.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He found another room. This one was a bit lighter. He could distinguish enough shapes to conclude he was in an office with a desk and a lot of file cabinets. He spotted a few cameras that would easily be avoided and one particular camera, pointing at one particular file cabinet. ~Dat must be an interestin' cabinet.~ Still too dizzy to make any brilliant moves, Remy settled for a simple trick. In one quick and smooth movement he turned the camera to a different cabinet. Now the trick was to wait for about twenty minutes. If no one had arrived by then, it was save to say that no one noticed the change. Remy spend those twenty minutes to sit back and wishing his hang over away. 

No one had come around to see, so Remy declared the coast clear. He dodged the rest of the cameras and reached the file cabinet. It were files about all sorts of mutants. They were much more detailed than the ones they had found at Kramer's apartment. He traveled through the many files, the ones he himself had stolen, a dozen post mortem reports, pathological research. It seemed the restriction collar currently around his neck had been a pretty tricky thing to develop. These people were preparing the next step after the mutant registration law: mutant containment. They were getting ready for imprisoning mutants, just like Bishop had told them will happen in the future. Gambit was not happy.

He spotted another file; marked X. He opened it and started reading it.  It looked familiar.

~ Dese are de files Xavier keeps o' us.~ They were just like the files he had found and copied on the very first night he stayed at the mansion. Every page contained information about each x-man. ~Dey must've known 'bout us all along.~ He found his own file. ~Gambit; Remy Lebeau. Ability to kinetically charge inanimate matter. Vision adaptation in dark. Might cause eyes to be photosensitive...I don' believe dis.~ He rolled his eyes and shook his head in unbelief. ~What man puts weaknesses in files on a badly secured computer free for everyone t' pick up? Charles Xavier, you naïve homme. Dey knew exactly how t' beat us. Even got Bishop here!~ He sighed. ~If y' can' beat dem, check de security on de computer, cos dat's why!~

************************************************

A/N Well, this was one large monologue. Hope you liked it and didn't find it too boring. And yes, it had a pretty lame i.y.c.b.t.-line, but I couldn't think of anything else. 

On next: Well, Remy's trying to get out, who do you think is trying to get in? And there are still little kiddies that have to be saved from the big bad evil guys...

Review and I'll unravel the mystery of the meaning of life itself... Nah, but if I ever bump into it, you'll be the first to know. But seriously, this story is really developing an inferiority complex and I just really like to know what you think of it, good or bad.

A/N I've heard the cartoon has been cancelled (for stupid reasons that shall remain unnamed). Does that mean this fanfic section is going to be cancelled too? ... 


	18. It does

Disclaimer: I own a black hole in my brain that is currently draining all my inspiration. 

Star-of-Chaos Eh...no actually, I didn't notice...he, eh...oops.

DarkElf3 Thank you, thank you! He is a great thief, isn't he *sigh* anyway, here's to confrontation...

Ima Super Mute Ant Just so long as you eat the doughnut and not Remy, I need him for this story...

Emma It is impossible for me to get sick of hearing compliments. They're like drugs without nasty side effects...

Ishandahalf Remy, Remy he's our man, if he can't do it, shame on him!

Caliente I totally suck at Romyness, I am just not a romantic soul. The mad scientist line was a silly reference to the comics (much like the abandoned train wagon in my other story) I just like doing that...

Leann In that case you're in luck, cos here's more!

Rachel I am immune to puppy dog eyes...no i'm not...i'm sad, here's more.

Streetwise Girl Oh no! Anything but that! You mustn't not like me! Please! Here's more, but please, do not not like me! :)

Epona I always thought of Gambit as a very funny character, that's why I pick him to star in fics...to make everyone's sides hurt. :)

A/N This is an awful excuse for a chapter, but I'm beginning to write more of another story and less of this one. Inspiration running low, you see, just like my sanity. Anyway, if it sucks too bad, say so and I'll repost...

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_Why me?_

Fissie

Remy was tempted to bang his head on the file cabinet. Very tempted, had it not been for the headache he already had. Many times before he banged his head on various surfaces, when he knew no one was looking. He always kept that poker face in perfect order, but sometimes, underneath that surface, he'd get desperate. Banging one's head on a certain surface always proved very useful and much less audible compared to screaming one's ears off. 

Remy put the files back where they were. He had to get out of there, but his orientation was completely missing. He spotted a ventilation hole. He pondered his options. Ventilation systems had more possibilities than spaces between floors, but were less spacious. They could get him nearly anywhere throughout the building, but were very narrow. He knew it would be the only way to get out, but he wished it wasn't. So, groggy as he was, he lifted the lid crawled in and started to sneak through the system. 

It was an agonizingly slow process, because his feet didn't coordinate with his hands, so instead of 'crouching' like a tiger he was actually 'worming' like a worm. And in this situation, Remy began wondering the meaning of life. His life. Which raised a couple of questions. When exactly did his life become this complicated? Dizzy, disoriented, imprisoned, collared. This was not going much according to plan. It was only a few weeks ago that everything had been fine. No wait. Scratch that. It was only a few weeks ago that everything had been good enough, considering the circumstances. A thief's life was a good life. A life without too many worries and sorrows. So what on earth possessed him to stay with a bunch of kids and try to save mutant kind? What cruel inner brain-system had told him to hang around and be a hero? Why? 

His body scraped passed loose plate, leaving a long bloody gash on his back. ~ Merde.~ He never did enjoy vent systems. To cold in the summer, too hot in the winter and too damn small at any time of the year. Remy LeBeau was more of a hallway kind of thief. Avoiding cameras and infrared systems was more pleasant than crouching in stupid vent systems. Especially those designed not to let thieves pass through them. People have no consideration. 

Luckily this thief was flexible. He could fold himself in many ways to fit through these damned vents. Everyone suspected it was part of his mutancy, but he liked to say it was the years of hard training and discipline. People laughed at him when he said that. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The X-men reached the warehouse for the second time, with their image inducers on. Not bothering themselves with manners, they blasted down the doors and burst in. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Not knowing in which direction he was crawling, Remy suddenly shook up when he heard voices and instantly regretted doing so. This headache was not going to go away in a long time. He lay absolutely still, hardly even moving to breath as he listened. 

It were the small voices of children, a few crawls further away. He crawled a bit nearer to the source, until he could clearly distinguish different sounds. Some were talking, some were crying. They were there; Remy had found the captured children. Maybe he could take a peek, and see how their conditions were. Most of his brain did not find that a good idea, he needed to get out of there, now, not be distracted by kiddies. He sighed. ~Y'r a big sap, LeBeau. A big ole sap.~

He got out of the vents, cracked every bone in his body and started scanning the area. He was standing on a floor that had once been used for keeping stocks. Some of the stock rooms had been transformed into holding cells. They must have been out of room and put him in a hole in the ground instead. He could hear the children on the other side. ~Spacious.~ Remy had been in worse places. Of course, he was a twenty year old, skilled thief and these were eight to twelve year old kids, so for them it must be hell. Which explained the crying. 

He spotted a few scanning cameras that would be easily dodged. With a few maneuvers he closed in on one of the doors, removed the bar, picked the lock and entered the cell.

Five children looked at him with horror in their little eyes. Remy noticed they all wore the same collars as he wore. ~Dey're mutants.~ It was pretty obvious, but in his current state, it was quite a revelation. He looked at their eyes, their mouths firmly shut and the way they curled up in the corner. He realized these children were experimental subjects. Remy did not like that idea. He knew what it was like all too well.

A small sigh of relief parted his lips at the realization that at least these kids were well fed, fairly clean and most importantly alive, not...like that man on the steel table... he shuddered to think. Which brought him back to his original plan: to get out of there.

A cough woke him from his thoughts. A great part of his brain told him to leave right now that he had the chance, before anyone noticed him having escaped or being here and got ready to leave those little kiddies again. 

But the hero inside of him awoke and made him realize he was going to have to Do Something About It. He didn't like that thought, he just wanted to get out of there. Responsibility and conscience, he'd rather do without. He heard the quiet sobs of a little girl. ~Much rader.~ He sobered up fast and spoke up. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

They fight was going marvelously. The image inducers worked like a charm. 

*Insert magnificent battle scene from comic of choice. Preferably one with loads of guns and superb fighting maneuvers.*

They never saw the giant net coming down on them from above. They never noticed the giant net being charged with electricity, knocking them all out. They never saw the grin that spread on Kramer's face as he saw his team had beaten the x-men once more. 

He pondered for a while to just kill them and be done with it, but a nagging scientist begged for them to be held until he could find use for them. Oh well, one has to keep one's employees happy. And so the x-men were carried away for safekeeping. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''Hi.'' Remy whispered. ''Don' worry, I won' hurt y'.''

Five pairs of eyes looked at him with unbelief. One pair of eyes looked up hopefully. ''Mommy?'' A girl wishfully whispered at the figure that stood there with his back towards her. It's the long hair, you see.

''Non, petit. M' name's Remy.'' He saw the other kids were not yet convinced he was not going to hurt them. ''I'm a mutant too.''

Five pairs of eyes saw the red on black eyes as Remy stepped from the shadows that always seemed to naturally fall on to him. 

''They got you too?'' One of the girls asked.

''Yeah, but I got out. An' I'm gonna get you out too.'' He checked the room. How on earth was he going to get the kids out of there? He looked out of the barred window. Five stories high. That was not an option. And all those kids couldn't crawl out of there unnoticed. 

Five pairs of eyes glistered with hope as they followed the Cajun around the room and five mouths started talking excitedly. 

''Shh. Don' wanna wake de guards, non?''

''When can we leave?'' The oldest boy asked. 

''Soon. Can' take y' wid m' now, but I be back, promise.'' Why didn't the word 'promise' ever come out of his mouth credulously? Somehow, in Remy's ears, the word didn't even pretend to be true in his mouth. Was it because he used the word so much it lost all meaning? Remy started to walk to the door again. 

One of the youngest boys took his hand and walked with him. Remy carefully released the kid's hand. ''Stay here.''

''I wanna go home.'' He cried softly. 

''Me too petit, an' trust me, your chances are higher den mine.'' He smiled a reassuring smile. ''Soon as I find a way out o' here, I'm comin' back f'r y'.'' He turned to one of the older boys. ''You, make sure everyone is ready t' leave when I get back.''

''Yes, sir.'' He said, with a slight smile at the great responsibility given to him. 

''Bon. See y' den.'' He left in silence. But to where? He still had no idea where he was. He decided to go down as much as he could and preferably leave through the same door he came in. He memorized the place he found the kids as much as he could. 

He wondered if maybe the x-men had escaped after all, since he hadn't found them. He looked up to the hole where he came from, the vent system. With a small jump he was able to crawl back through. He would try to contact the x-men when he got out of there and they would come back to fight everyone again and save the kids then. ~No use tryin' t' be a hero all by y'rself, non? Better t' have back up. An' as I always used t' say: 'f y' can' beat dem, tell y'r mommy an' bring y'r poppa t' teach de li'l bastards a lesson.~ 

**************************************************

On next: Will the X-men survive? Oh, don't be too sure, this whole story started because the x-men died, remember? I might give it an evil twist...

Review, reviews are my inspiration, my motivation, my muse and whatever other nouns my thesaurus-list provides me with to continue...


	19. Call it professionalism, call it what yo...

Disclaimer:  I own the bad plot unfolding here and no more than that...

Star-of-Chaos I know, sometimes I just feel very naughty. And you'll have to wait for the answer even more, just see...

Dark Elf3 I write the way I talk, imagine a conversation with me or even worse; me giving a lecture or something. Chaos ensured. Could you pass on some snow to my place? I could use a vacation, but all we have here is watery, dirty, snowy, rainy stuffy. *sigh* *nagging voice * I wanna make a snow man! :)

Leann A real kid's friend, our Cajun. And of course a talented thief…Those two things somehow just don't combine the way they should, do they? 

Caliente Eh, I think you're on the wrong type of fanfic-flow there...Wolverine bringing in a pet Cajun...somehow that sounds a bit off. ;) I mean, yeah, the story started with that, but the actual Story (with capital s) started at the point where Bishop made his entrance and told the x-men had /will have died in the future. :) Anyway, yes I know about the fight, sorry, but I just wanted to post something. Don't want to keep anyone waiting too long. See the pathetic excuse, there? :)

Streetwise Girl I was having a perfectly fine day, but then you started threatening me and now...nah, still having a good day. Here's an update, so now you can like me still.

Ishandahalf Remy, although very happy with the points, wonders if he could trade the points for aspirins. :) The x-men had to loose, because…well read the story and you might find out why Remy was considered the traitor.

Saddlydeprived My fic causes disobedience, ey? Ha, ha, good! And of course I'll continue, you reviewed...:)

Epona tas had a bit of it...but I agree evo has nothing of the sort...grrrrr. But here I'm making up for that. :)

Peace215 What a coincidence; I couldn't have done it better myself either! :D I heard they cancelled it cos it got too gloomy and dark. But that was the nicest bit of it...I'll never get it...Anyway, hope you like this chapter too.

_shadow (review chap 1) Accents? With s? As in more than one? Wow. Didn't know I did that...I'm better than I thought. Don't go too mad, though, might be bad for someone else's health...

Chere Well, I can't disagree on the weird bit. ;) But is that really a bad thing? I'm weird. But that's okay, we need weirdo's to make the rest of the people feel sane. 

A/N Shortest chapter ever. But I wanted a cliffhanger, hang with me, okay?

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_''Professionalism''_

Fissie

Storm was the first to wake from her coma. She found herself trapped with her hands in restraints above her head. She opened her eyes and saw the rest of the team in similar position. They were all trapped like that, hanging on the wall of a large round room. In the middle of the room was a large cylindrical device, blocking the view to her fellow x-men on the opposite side.

She heard a load groan; Wolverine was also waking up. But something was wrong. He kept on screaming and groaning in pain. 

''Wolverine!'' She exclaimed. 

Wolverine couldn't respond. The pain he was in was unbearable. 

Scott woke up to the loud screams. He noticed his visor was gone, so he didn't dare opening his eyes. ''What is it?''

Wolverine managed to speak a few pained words. ''Can't...hea-healing...factor...argh...gone.''

''What?'' Rogue was suddenly wide-awake too. 

''He says his healing factor is gone.'' Scott clarified. 

Beast woke up too and understood the situation quickly. ''Which means the adamantium bones in his body and his claws are killing him.''

Kitty woke up too and decided to step out of her constraints, which should be simple enough. She tried. ''I can't phase through!''

Slowly everyone else woke up too. Jean tried to establish a telepathical link with...anyone. But she couldn't. ''I can't contact anyone.'' The same kind of sound came from all x-men. They're powers seemed to be gone. 

Scott carefully opened his eyes. ''Our powers, they're gone!'' Always perceptive, isn't he?

''Someone....give...the man a...fucking..nobel...prize.'' Wolverine spat. 

Beast assessed the situation. ''I suspect the cylinder in the middle of the room is the cause of our current deficiency.''

''Why?'' Jean asked from the other side.

''I can clearly distinguish 'Mutant power restriction cylinder, prototype VI' in big black letters on a yellow surface on this device in our midst.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Gambit kept on crawling through the vent system. Suddenly he spotted a big room with a large cylindrical device in the middle through a small hole. He saw his teammates, trapped with restraints on the wall. The restraints seemed as seamless as his own collar. No way he could ever get them off, at least not in this drug-hazed state. The x-men didn't sound very happy. Didn't look very peachy either, especially Wolverine. 

He heard Beast words with slight difficulty. ~Mutant power restriction cylinder? 'F I disconnect dat device, dey'll be able t' get out easy.~ It seemed like a good idea. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''Prototype? Zat doesn't sound too good.'' Kurt was not happy about the situation. 

Rogue looked over at a small paper filled table at her side. ''That's cos you haven't seen these notes yet.'' She read them aloud. '' 'Attempt three; currently active. Attempt one; failed, result in two escapes. Assumed short-circuit in restraints. Attempt two; failed, result in death of subjects. Assumed short-circuit M.P.C.'.''

''Deaz of subjects?'' Kurt was not happy at all. 

''I am afraid that we are 'attempt three'. I believe that we have been chosen to be guinea pigs.''

''Zat doesn't sound good at all.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

So, a short-circuit in the cylinder's electrical wiring had caused the death of certain subjects. ~Hmmm. Maybe I better find de electric lock t' de restraints, den. Don' wan' kill dem.~ He crawled out of the vent system, to a space between floors, right above the room his teammates were in. He spotted a loose steel plate and pulled it off. This was it, the mainframe of that room. A great mesh of wires unfolded before him. Remy started to scatter through the mesh with absolute orderliness to assess the type of circuit he was dealing with. 

~Let's see, dis looks familiar. Nothin' out o' de ordinary. ~ Happy with that finding, he continued his search. For five minutes. 

~Why's dis connected to dis? Makes no sense. And dis...hmmm, maybe not so ordinary.~ The wires of the cylinder and the restraints ran through each other without apparent order. Remy couldn't make anything of it. ~Don' panic LeBeau. Dis maybe a weird system, but it still a system. Dat means dere's some logic in it. Find it.~ He tried to categorize the wires, he tried to remember if the read anything in the files he had stolen so long ago. Nothing came to mind and no logic appeared in the mesh of wires, lights, buttons, panels and more wires. 

This was getting annoying. ~Merde.~ He banged his fist on the wall. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Any attempts to get out on behalf of all x-men failed. Beast no longer possessed the strengh he needed and non of the others had any way of escaping. The only one who had a useful tool that wasn't part of his mutancy was Wolverine, but the pain he was in made it impossible for him to extend his claws. All the poor man could do was try not to cry out in pain.  

''What's that sound?'' Evan suddenly asked.

''What sound?'' Storm had not heard anything.

''Nothing. Must have been my imagination.''

''I hope so.'' Kurt was still not happy. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The banging on the wall caused something inside the network to make a bit of a clicking sound.

~'Click'?~ he looked at the panel that had made that sound and saw no change in it. ~Whad'ya mean 'click'? I didn' ask f'r 'click'. Don' go clickin' on me!~ Remy was getting really frustrated and sighed for the umpteenth time this day. ~Were are de old days o' high tech laser systems? Least dey make sense.~

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''Do you think zis is how ze X-men die?'' Kurt didn't want to know, but the question was nagging his brain. 

''I do not know.'' Bishop stated. He had never known how the x-men died; he just had suspicions and knew the one who did it.

Kitty came up with an idea. ''But Xavier isn't here. He'll live, so this can't be, like, it.''

Scott wasn't convinced. ''Without us, it's easier to get to the professor. What will stop anyone?''

''Anyone? You mean Gambit.'' Bishop stated reluctantly. 

''Still think it's him?''

''I do not know.'' Bishop had meant to say 'yes', but somehow even in this position, and with little prospects, part of his mind, refused.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Remy couldn't hear the conversation, just muffled words and loud groaning on Wolverine's behalf. On the bright side, he had narrowed the web of wires down to two. Two wires, a gray one and a red one. It was a very small bright side. Both seemed to lead to the restraints, although both also seemed to lie in an odd place to be able to cause a short-circuit in the restraints. They lay more in the direction of the cylinder and somehow Remy was afraid he might cause a short-circuit in the mutant power restriction device in stead. ~Gotta make a choice, but I don' particularly like de odds.~ He knew he had little choice, he had to get the x-men out of there as soon as possible, before the real testing began, before anyone noticed he had escaped, before anything bad happened to those children... He was sweating more than a composed thief ever should, but he couldn't help it. He wiped the sweat of his forehead. ~Remy, jus' pick a wire.~ He scolded to himself. ~Famous last words dose...~ He contemplated the set up one last time. ~Alright, let's be professional bout dis. 'F y' can' beat dem, make de next best rational choice.~ He sighed. ~Here goes...Ini mini miny mo.~ His finger pointed at the grayish wire. ~Gray it is.~ He took the steel panel he had lifted off before and placed it between his legs. He took the gray wire and placed it on the sharp edge of the plate...

*************************************************

A/N Evil is my middle name. Hope you liked it, will repost if you don't!

On next: Will it have been the right color? What if it's not? 

Review and find out...


	20. This can't be healthy

Disclaimer: I own this plot, and I fear it shall never be a Broadway musical... 

Star-of-Chaos I left you dangling. Not too long, but just long enough...he-he-he.

Chere But I can. For I am evil. I noticed the favorite writer thing in your bio. :) Don't mind stupid reviews, I know a lot of people do hate them, but I just like knowing people read the story... Makes me happy. I need reviews. And I cannot do without humor, my brain just doesn't work that way.

Serpentine013x Well, glad you liked it, you got me worried there for a sec...up until the point you said 'loved it'. Me like that. :)

Epona Hell yea! I'm having everyone dangling from one hand on that cliff. He-he-he. 

Dark Elf3 Cliche, I know, but a perfectly fine cliffhanger...water I don't need, I live below sea level :). Oh, and all your praise left a stupid grin on my face that refuses to leave, and I'm receiving disturbed looks right now. But I don't care; glad you liked it!

FlamingCammi Work, work. :) Bishie came back, but he didn't change the past because he didn't kill Remy, so it doesn't matter he's there… I know this is a pathetic excuse, but plots were never my strong point.

Streetwise Girl And that my friend, is my plot. I never claimed it was a very good plot. :)

Peace215 Remy's drugged, ranging from slightly buzzed to crazy-high in seconds and the choice needed to be made, and because his judgmental capacities might not exactly be high up, he resorted to the gambler inside him. Fifty-fifty an' all that. 

Ishandahalf Is that really an option? Come on, I like the x-men, why kill em? Oh yeah, I forgot; I'm evil.

Enchantedlight Indeed, authors don't post their addresses to prevent bomb-packages from arriving in their mail and prevent axes from flying through their windows. But the mental pain is enough, so here's a chapter for you. :)

Leann Hope you didn't flunk the test, whatever test it was, but a great portion of my brain told me to do something evil...

Kitrazzle Fayn *gets her out of the seat and leads her on a comfy armchair* there, much better, right? Sit back and enjoy the show. 

Chronicles Bailey Come on, get off the floor, stop overreacting. Here's more, see? Now, put the gun down slowly…good…slowly and nice and continue reading…good.

Dreams of Magic Is that really a question? Come on. The cliffhanger was pretty cliché, so shouldn't the outcome be too? 

Rena Lupin Eh...no. I like being unhurt, it's just one of those ticks I got. :) Here's more. 

A/N Now, you didn't have to wait that long did you? So don't go getting anxious. Here's a long chapter! 

***************************************************

_All power corrupts, but we need the electricity_

Fissie

A drop of sweat fell to the ground as he closed the wire in on the sharp edge. Closer, and closer and closer. Somehow he seemed to be moving in slow motion, although that could have been due to the drugs he'd been given. His body always reacted strangely to drugs. Some drugs left him slightly buzzed, such as morphine or ephedrine, while others made him Fear-and-loathing-in-Las-Vegas-high in a matter of seconds, such as aspirin or ibuprofen. Some said it was because of his high metabolism, due to his kinetic abilities. The only drug he could really cope with was nicotine. ~Could really use a cigarette right now.~ For clarity, Remy was obviously not addicted to cigarettes or nicotine, but he needed one desperately within the next twenty-four hours or else...

The wire closed in on the sharp edge even more. 

...

Suddenly it struck him. He didn't know if it was because of the adrenaline shot in his body or another side effect of the drugs, but one memory vividly jumped up from the mesh that was his brain and danced around his head in big bright neon letters. 

It was a memory from the one of the first days that Bishop arrived at the mansion. When he had talked about what he was like in the future. 'Neither black nor white ever did suit me'. Neither black nor white ever did suit me. The words, big bright letters, danced around his head. Okay, so maybe he was still a bit more than slightly dazed. They words had taunted him ever since the moment Bishop had spoken them. Back then he had explained black was the color of mourning and white was the color of innocence, and that the Witness had claimed to be neither. But something wasn't quite right about that. For Remy, white was the color of surrender. He hadn't put much thought in it at the time, but he did always kept his doubts about Bishop's color-assessment. Of course, he had doubts about everything that the man had claimed since he arrived to this century, so who would have believed him at the time.  

But now...Now that he saw the wire in his hands, the plastic already slightly torn, about to be cut in two...

Gray! Neither black nor white ever did suit me. Black and white makes gray! ~Dat's it! Don' cut de grey one.~ He let go of the wire, took the red one instead and proceeded. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

''What was that sound?'' Bobby didn't dare asking, but he did anyway. 

''Ah heard it too.'' Rogue looked at the ceiling. It seemed to come from there. 

Jean looked at the restraints that were still holding their hands in the air. ''The red light above the restraints is no longer flickering.'' Could the restraints have been turned off?

Beast tried. ''I still cannot free myself from them. They're too tight. If fear it shall take an outsider to help us.''

Suddenly a figure crashed in through a grille in the ceiling.

''Gambit!'' Was the more-or-less collective sound. 

''Hello, mes amis. Miss me?'' His grin was wide.

''I knew you'd come to our rescue.'' Storm was delighted to see him.

Gambit turned to Storm as his face grew stern. ''Rescue? No, chere, I'm here t' kill y'.''

''WHAT?!'' This sound was a lot more collective, even Wolverine managed a sound. 

Unable to keep up the stern look, Remy started laughing. ''I should bring m' camera when I say dose things. De looks on y'r faces, priceless. Jus' priceless.'' 

But enough play, he'd have to move quickly, before he was noticed and those men in green would come to smash them all over again. 

Wolverine needed to get out of that room fast. He pulled on the restraints and feral and pained man dropped to the floor. Remy grabbed him by the shoulders and carried him out the, luckily unlocked, doors. 

Being out of reach of the mutant power restriction device, as soon as he was on the other side of the doors Wolverine's healing factor started kicking in.

''Thanks, kid.'' He croaked. 

''Warn 'f y' see anyone comin'.'' Quickly Remy returned to the room. 

He pulled Beast out and both helped out the rest of the team. While getting everyone out of the restraints, Remy explained the situation. 

''I found some files bout dis place an' what happens in here. Dis is a prototype t' mutant power restriction device. So is dis collar. An' I saw somethin' bout a net or somethin' too. De people here are experimentin' wid mutants. Dis,'' he waved at the room ''is jus' _one_ o' deir projects.'' He pulled the restraints of Storm and helped her to the floor gently.

''Thank you.''

''Any time, Stormy.'' And he continued explaining. ''Dey beat us so easily cos dey know all about us, dey have our files.'' He paused for a second. ''I saw de children dat were captured, you remember? It was on de news. Dey're here. We got t' get dem out. Also found de mutants captured a few monds ago...well, dey didn' end up so good. I got all de evidence we need t' pin Kramer down f'r a long time.'' He paused again and then continued on a much graver tone. ''As f'r de rest o' dis whole organization, I f'r one am not goin' t' be beaten again. Dis has t' go down permanently. It _is_ goin' down. Found a weak spot, placed a li'l bomb dere, made by y'rs truly, de whole place is goin' down in about fifteen minutes. So, you blast out o' here fast an' wait outside de buildin' an' Wolverine an' me 'll get de kids, 'fore de place crumbles.'' Scott was about to interrupt. ''Don' argue wid me. We're gonna get dose kids an' it ain' gon' happen anytime fast 'f we hav' t' follow y'r li'l rules.'' About not killing, were the unspoken underlying words. ''We do dis my way. You don' agree wid me, I'll knock y' out cold an' y' won' wake up till dis is over, comprands-tu? We're gonna get de kids out an' den de buildin' 's gonna collapse. End o' story.'' Scott tried interrupting again. ''_End_'' Knowing he didn't really have a better solution, and it was sver if only two of them saved the kids, Scott remained silent. ''Good.'' 

Rogue was still dangling and Remy approached to rescue her. ''Hi chere.'' His tone was lighter. 

''Get the damned constraints off, Cajun.''

He stood there with his hand behind his back. ''Not 'less y' ask m' nicely.''

''Now!'' This was no time for stupid flirting. 

''An' what d' I get in return, chere?'' He started pulling on the restraints. 

''Just get me outta he...!''

Her last words were muffled with a kiss as he carefully let her down.

''Gladly, chere. Since y' asked m' nice.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Running down a maze of hallways in search of the kids, Wolverine and Gambit didn't encounter much opposition, due to the fact that they moved very quickly. Well, that was the story they would tell Xavier. It was impossible to get those kids out fast and unseen.

No, they didn't encounter much opposition, due to the fact that they were two very pissed off mutants that had left quite a few men in green in need of rapid hospitalization. Not dead, not yet, and if everything resolved quickly, they would most likely survive, but non the less, right now they remained in a less than pleasing state. 

Gambit still wore the suppression collar, it was made of adamantium and Wolverine couldn't claw through it, not now, not this fast. They closed in to the place where the children were captured.

''Stand still or die!'' Another two men came up to them in the hallway. They had seen their colleagues and were not in the mood for fights.Wolverine got ready to put his claws to good use once more but Gambit stopped him. 

He turned to the two men and grinned. ''Mon ami, y' better get out 'fore de buildin' collapses on y'r heads.''

''What?'' One of the men asked.

''De buildin's gonna collaps in...'' he checked his wrist, on which no watch was present. ''oh, about ten minutes.''

''That's a bluff.'' The other one said, getting ready to shoot.

''Try m'.'' His expression was rock hard. 

The man called on his receiver and told whoever was on the other end to have everyone to get out of there. Well, at least he had some sense in him and valued their lives. Something could be said about that. Both ran away to safety. 

''Why'd you do that?'' Wolverine asked. 

''Kids are behind dat door, no need f'r dem t' hear us fightin'. Dey need t' trust us. Put y'r claws away.''

Gambit picked the lock and stepped inside.

'''M back.'' He said softly. 

The older boy he had left 'in charge' rapidly stood up. As soon as he was standing the rest of the group divided into groups of two, always a smaller younger kid paired with a stronger older kid. The boy had really done a good job. 

''Le's get out. Fast.'' 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The x-men waited for the members of the FOH to come out and surrounded them instantly. Men in Green, scientists, cleaners, everyone. Things didn't look too good for the FOH-ers. 

''Get down on the floor, face down!'' Cyclops commanded.  

After eight minutes Wolverine and Gambit came out with the kids. 

Jean ran over to the two men, the rest were still surrounding the members of the FOH. ''We called the cops, they should be here soon.'' She turned to a little girl that had grabbed her hand tightly. She smiled at her and continued. ''We need that evidence you picked up to give to the authorities, Gambit...Gambit?''

A few papers dropped near her on the floor. The evidence. She looked up to the trees, but saw no one. 

The cops came right at that moment and some ambulances too. 

Jean handed the archive to one of the older children. After that, the x-men left the scene They didn't feel like being submitted to interrogations. The FOH people were turned in and the children were taken to safety.  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Quickly the x-men got in the blackbird. Gambit showed up just before lift off. 

Jean gave him a knowing look. ''You left pretty quick when those cops came.''

''Cops? Did you call de cops? What a great idea.'' Gambit managed to sound innocent. 

''Right.'' Jean smiled. 

Wolverine looked out of the window. ''Kid, why ain' the building collapsed yet?''

''Ain' gonna collapse.'' He shrugged. 

''What?''

''Course not. All de evidence dey need is in dere. Plus some people dat deserve decent burial. Was jus' a li'l white lie. T' make sure everyone would get outta dere fast widout arguin'.'' He smiled at Scott. 

Scott was about to start a serious argument but Bishop had some more urgent questions that needed answering. 

''You beat the murderer of the X-men?'' He was still curious at who would've killed them. 

''Non. You were right in claimin' I was de one.'' He explained the situation. How he got captured. How he got drugged. How he saw them trapped. How he had to choose from a gray and a red wire. ''Fifty-fifty, now I don' normally like dose odds, but I didn' have much choice.'' How he remembered the words of Bishop. ''See, white is de color o' surrender, o' givin' up. So what I said was dat I didn't mourn dem, 'least not anymore, but dat I wasn' givin' up...on whatever. An' packed in dat li'l riddle, was de reason f'r y'r deaths. Gray. De gray wire.'' Remy wasn't at all convinced with his own little explanation, but he figured that if he talked in riddles in the future, he would probably not have been sane anymore, and so it probably didn't make sense either way. He picked the right wire and was pretty damn happy he had done so.

''So you did kill the x-men, but it was an accident?'' Scott asked not believing it. 

''''Parently.'' Remy shrugged. 

Hearing another argument coming, Storm interrupted. ''Were save now.'' She sounded serene. 

''Mos' likely.'' Remy grinned. ''Less de plane crashes right now, wid me as de only survivor.''

The trip home was mostly silent. 

Bishop walked up to Gambit and coughed. 

''I suppose I owe you an apology.'' He spoke. 

''Yah.'' Remy said matter-of-factly.

''For calling you a traitor.'' 

''Yah.''

''And trying to kill you.''

''Several times.'' Remy specified.

''All the time.'' Bishop managed a smile that looked more like a wry grin.

''Y'do. I'm waitin'.'' Remy finally at the man. 

''I owe you one.''

Remy slapped Bishop on the back. ''I'll save it f'r when I need y' t' stalk someone I don' like. Y'r good at it.''

''I'll be there.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Home sweet home; the hallway_

Remy tugged at the collar that was still around his neck. ''Dis is gettin' real uncomfortable.''

''Allow me.'' Having regained his strength, Wolverine was now able to cut the device with an extended claw. 

''Thanks, mon ami.'' He looked at his hands and they started glowing. He was happy to see the glow back in them. ''Good as new.''

''I'm glad everything worked out.'' Storm said happily seeing everyone was all right. 

''Euh. Gambit your hands are still glowing.'' Bobby assessed stepping a bit back. He still remembered that guy's powers up close and personal. 

''Yeah, shouldn't you, like, push that charge back?'' Kitty asked.

Remy smiled, he had forgotten about that. He tried to retrieve the charge. Again. And again. ''I...I...can'.'' Instinctively he ran outside. The rest were stunned. Remy had just stuttered. They ran after him. 

They found him in the open field. The pinkish glow that surrounded his hands became a flaming red glow and started spreading throughout his entire body. Pieces of skin were charging the first thing they came in contact with, clothing, shoes, grass, the air-molecules surrounding him. Remy dropped on his knees, he couldn't stand anymore, feeling the power burst of his body. 

~Not again.~ ''Get back. Everybody.'' Remy shouted. No one could move, they stood petrified, amazed of what was happening. The glow was getting bigger and bigger, much like the glow of a dying star right before imploding or exploding. ''RUN!'' Remy shouted again. The got the hint and ran for shelter as fast as they could.

A huge explosion burst out at the same time as a loud and pained scream was heard. Then silence. Rogue was the first to run back.

''Remy? Remy! Are you alright?'' He lay on the floor, in a crater created by himself. Shreds of clothing had been burned away from his body, burn marks were present on the few patches of grass that surrounded him, and pieces of glass made out of sand surrounded him. He had burn marks on his feet, knees and hands. His eyes glowed fiery red.

He stood up, aided by Rogue, shakily.

''Jus' peachy, chere, don' worry.'

Xavier came nearer too. ''The collar.'' He quickly assessed. ''The suppression must have caused some sort of power surge.''

Remy let go of Rogue and stood on his own. He couldn't let know what pain he was in. ''Don' y' jus' love experimental technology.''

The professor was more than worried. He had felt the surge as a mental kick and as he saw the grass burning, he realized that was organic matter he charged and he had appeared to charge the very air too. ''Gambit? Are you sure you are alright?''

''Don' worry. I be fine.'' He passed his hand by his nose. ~Blood? Oh, merde.~ 

*******************************************************

A/N They lived! Hurray! Don't kill me for this shallow plot.

And no, this isn't a cliffhanger, it's a bloody nose, nothing big, just blood. From his nose. 

On next: An epilogue. The last chapter of this mad crusade. 

Review and I promise the next chapter will be the last one, it's getting kinda long don't you think?

A/N Oh dear, another 'if you can't beat them'-less chapter. Really sorry but I couldn't think of any and I was getting a bit scared of all the death treats to my address for hanging people cliffs. That's why I posted this so quickly. I'll repost if there's too much errors in my writing. If you're really unhappy with the end just pretend you read something like ~if y' can' beat dem...blood? Oh, merde.~ I know it sucks, but that's the best I could think of.


	21. The end, my friend

Disclaimer: I own no small country. I tried to buy Lichtenstein, but I miscalculated the costs...

Star-of-Chaos Thank you. Please like this chapter, cos it's the last one for now in this thread. Did I say thread? Yea, there will be more, some day. :)

Serpentine013x I'm assuming this is not a threat or a subtle hint that the previous chapters sucked. In that case, I got a sequel planned, because I got more adventures to come and I thought it would be stupid to paste it in this story, so it has become a new story. So, don't hate me and wait for more...:)

Epona Nah, I didn't want to be too corny. But it had to be fun. So I invented a very silly oops-I-got-the-wrong-wire plot. Glad you liked it. 

Enchantedlight I didn't even know what the riddle meant when I wrote it. But it turned out pretty okay.

Leann He's okay, sort of. Well, maybe not okay but just fine. Well maybe not just fine but...

Dark Elf3 Evolving? Indeed it would be cool to explore that further. And to tell you the truth I only wrote it to be able to write a sequel. Did I say sequel? I did. Oh dear. Of course I won't be stopping after this. I got a sequel for this and another idea for a fic in the army. Army? Yea, You'll see...Glad to see you didn't think it was too long.

Peace215 Scott has to be alive for the stick-up-ass factor in this story. Sequel? Hmmmmmmmmmm *author chokes nearly out of breath*. Yeah, most likely. :)

AGST Did it? I wonder why? Could it be that I inserted a dramatic event in the penultimate chapter? In other words, yeah, there'll be a sequel, most likely. 

Ishandahalf Clever. I like that. I didn't know what the riddle was about when I wrote it and when I did, at first I wanted it to be something Jean (Grey) had said but I couldn't think of anything so I molded the story to get...well, this. 

Streetwise Girl Yeah, silly don't you think. Yea, this fic is almost over but you can have a sort-of sequel if you want. Oops. Well, there goes that surprise.:)

Natural Yah, I will, because a lot of people have asked me to. And because it's partially written already... ;) 

Rena Lupin Hank doesn't get time or strengh to put Gambit in a lab. Just read. :)

Emma (review from chapter 19) Well, you know it was now, hope you like the ending...

A/N I hate happy endings...

***********************************************************

_All things move towards their end, of that you can be sure._

Fissie

Remy was not at all happy with the so called 'power surge' that had occurred. He didn't dare thinking. ~Could it be back?~  He took his green duffel bag and started packing. Now he had two reasons to leave. 

Bishop stepped in to their room.

Remy looked up. ''Bishop.'' A short acknowledgement 

''LeBeau.'' Bishop sat down on his bed with his inseparable gun in hands.

Remy decided to add a little light conversation to the uncomfortable silence. ''So y'can go back home now, den, mon ami.'' He smiled. 

''No.'' Bishop was not helping in making this a nice conversation.

''What'd y' mean?''

''I'm afraid I took a one way ticket to this place. The 'time machine' was not working properly anymore, but there was no other way. I had to come here. Besides, I came here expecting to die.''

Remy remembered that conversation. ''So, dey're stuck wid y'?'' It was only a small 'they', but Remy made it very clear he wasn't going to be followed around by no one anymore. 

''I shall protect the X-men with everything I've got.'' He sat straight up, like a soldier, presenting his gun. 

Gambit grinned. ''Bad temper, mad determination an' a huge gun?'' 

''Oh yes.'' Bishop's attempts at humor were getting better and better. 

Remy threw his bo in the duffel and closed the bag. 

''You are leaving?'' It wasn't so much of a question. 

''Very perceptive.''

''Why?''

Remy looked at the man with hard unreadable glaring eyes and an almost grin. ''Let's jus' say I could do wid a vaction.''

Bishop nodded and left the room. He knew any phrase that started with 'Let's just say' was both a lie and not up for discussion. The Witness spoke those words very often. Let's just say I was lucky. Let's just say I borrowed that painting. Let's just say it was a friend's favor. Let's just say he took a nice long trip to Spain. Best was to let it be. LeBeau would not change his mind.

Rogue nearly bumped into him in the hallway. 

She stepped through the door to Remy's room. ''Hi, Remy.''

''Chere, how y' doin'?'' He asked cheerfully. 

''Fine.'' She wanted to say more, she wanted to beat around the bush, but she couldn't. ''Look, Ah wanted to ask...I needed to know...'' ~About the kiss.~ But she couldn't speak the words. She was afraid he had just kissed her out of pity or simply because the opportunity had presented itself. Because he was a charmer and a womanizer, not because he liked her. Because he...

Then her mind started registering the situation. 'Why are you packing your bag?''

He smiled but he didn't seem happy. ''Have t' leave.''

''What?'' She was a bit shocked. ''Where to?''

''Europe maybe Japan. Take care o' a few loose ends.''

''Now? I mean...Now?'' Silently adding ~Now that you kissed me? Now that Ah finally got it in mah thick skull that Ah really like you? Now that you just suffered from a power surge that Hank said could be dangerous for your health? Now that...~

''Oui. But don' worry, after dis, I be back.'' 

''...'' Rogue didn't have words left. All she had was a big lump in her throat. 

''It be fine, chere. I be back, trust m'.'' He approached her. 

She looked up at him. ''You'll come back?''

He nodded and embraced her. ''Course chere.''

''Really?'' She put her hands around him as well. It felt really good.

''Really. Thieves honor.'' He let her go and put a hand across his heart. 

Rogue arched an eyebrow. ''Isn't that a contradiction in terms?''

''Mostly not, but wid me, y' can never tell.''

She snorted. ''How very comforting.''

''I promise, chere.'' Remy cringed inwardly. Why couldn't those words sound credulously? He needed to add something to make him believe his own words. ''I'll miss y'.'' Not the words he was looking for, but it worked. 

''Really?'' She didn't believe him. So maybe those words didn't work. Maybe a joke would. 

''Sure, chere. Like when I was imprisoned in dat hole in de ground.'' He looked up as if to remember that time. ''Bein' down dere wid a power suppression collar 'round m' neck...really missed y', chere. Wished y' were dere too...wid a collar, o' course.'' He added with a grin. 

She slapped him playfully. ''Dirty mind.''

''Always chere.''

''Ah'll miss you too.'' She embraced him smiled weakly and left the room. 

Remy found a certain urge to find a brick wall and smash his head on to it. Hard. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

And so Remy left, before dinner, before Rogue had told anyone, before the professor could ask him about his powers, before anyone could say goodbye, before Hank could drag him to the medlab. He just took his Harley and left. No good-byes, no speeches, no lectures. He just left. Like a thief.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

At night when Rogue went to bed, she instinctively searched for her necklace. Just to see it, maybe wear it. She was glad Remy had given her something. At least now she had something to remember him by. Maybe, just maybe, she was seriously developing a crush for that swamp boy. She opened her drawer, but she found no necklace. Instead she found a note.

_Chere Rogue,_

_Some things you cannot plan. _

_Some things you cannot change. _

_Some things are out of your hands. _

_And in to mine. _

_Sorry. _

_Remy _

_P.S. If you overheard anything when you heard me speaking on the phone the other day, try to forget it._

All the softness and mushy happiness disappeared from her mind in seconds. She crushed the piece of paper and threw it against the wall. Her necklace. He stole her necklace. He didn't ask her for it. He just stole it and gave her a lousy note. Anger and fury blazed in her eyes. Her blood was boiling. The phone-call, she remembered. ''Y'r timin' sucks, homme''. ''I don' have it''. He had been talking about her necklace. And now he had stolen it to, what? Give it to someone else? Sell it? 

That slimy, crappy, stupid, lying, sweet-talking, thieving, arrogant, lower-than-dirt, smirking, idiotic...

''ARGH!'' She shouted on top of her longs. That Cajun was dead.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Across the ocean_

The Netherlands, portal to Europe. Gateway to the Old World. Well, in terms of transport anyway. Ship transport to be more precise. Rotterdam, proud owner of one of the largest harbors in the world. Millions of goods pass that harbor every day. Thousands of ships load, unload and pass by. Smuggler's Paradise. 

The Netherlands, a small but key country for any criminal organization, including the Thieves Guild. Paintings and antiques to large to carry in a suitcase aboard planes are smuggled out of Europe through the harbor of Rotterdam.

The Netherlands, with its capital Amsterdam, its red-light district, its museums, its boats, its markets, its attitude, its houses and its water and it's coffeeshops. 

The Netherlands, home of Sebastiaan van den Broek, twenty-five year old small time thief, drinker, smuggler, sweet talker, son of a good friend of Jean-Luc LeBeau, blackmailer, spy, ~idiot~...cursed with a huge amount of bad luck. ~In oder words; an idiot.~

Sebastiaan, Sebas for anyone who knew him well, was currently working undercover as a thief in one of Holland's biggest crime syndicates. Who his employers were was a well-kept secret. No one outside of whatever organization it was knew about it. But that's hardly the point here. Well at least it was not the reason that Remy was here for. 

Sebas' first assignment in this syndicate was to steal a necklace from Japan. It wasn't an expensive or very valuable necklace, although the rubies used were some of the finest rubies in the world. But the syndicate didn't want it stolen for it's value, no, Sebas was given this assignment as an estimation of his skills and loyalty to the syndicate. The necklace had been the property of a very rich man with a very thick vault in a very inaccessible mansion. The vault had a reputation of being impenetrable and the man kept the necklace there together with the most valuable paintings in the world. No way Sebas was ever going to be able to get to it.

So Sebas asked his dearest friend, Remy LeBeau to steal it for him. Well, dearest friend; let's say they had a love-hate relation that relied solely on the hate part. But, hate or no hate, the idea of an impenetrable vault appealed to the Master Thief and the deal was quickly sealed. The crime syndicate got its necklace and stored it in an even more impenetrable vault, Sebas got all the honors, Remy got all the money, everyone was happy. 

Sort of. 

Soon the rumor of the theft spread around the criminal world. the necklace had suddenly become a hot item. It became the embodiment of power. Having the necklace meant the power to be able to penetrate impassable vaults, meaning superiority. And criminals and criminal organizations love superiority. They need it like a drug. And so it came to be that many more syndicates wanted to get their dirty hands on that necklace. 

Remy's necklace. Oh yes, Remy's necklace. 

Remy usually didn't care for honors and such, but the idea that that necklace that he had stolen had suddenly become such an important and valuable item, appealed to him. So, to make a long story short, he stole the necklace back. This happened shortly before he joined the x-men. 

So far so good. 

But Sebas was ~an idiot~...an unfortunate soul. The necklace theft from that Dutch crime syndicate was blamed on him and they suspected him to be a spy. Their suspicions were based not only on the theft, but also on certain files that had not yet been examined properly and that Sebas really didn't care for them to be examined at all. His life was in danger. 

So he called for Remy LeBeau, risking his life, every phone call could be tapped. He asked Remy to return the necklace to him and while he was in Holland destroy any evidence the syndicate had on him. For a second Sebas had feared Remy to refuse, but arrogant as he may be, Remy LeBeau helped a friend in need. Always. 

------------

So there he was. Sitting on a bench on the Leidseplein, in Amsterdam at eleven o'clock in the evening. In front of him a juggler was entertaining a growing crowd and telling everyone they should 'not try this at home'. He was sitting on a monocycle and juggling three burning torches.  Do not try this at home indeed applied. A few people in the audience laughed at the cliche joke, the rest had probably heard it all before. 

A beggar was trying to sleep on the bench next to him. Looking back from that man to himself, he couldn't help but thinking about how he looked. He hadn't had much sleep in days and black circles darkened his eyes. He wore his ever-present coat and baggy pants and a black shirt. His nose had just stopped bleeding again. He was certain the beggar looked better than he did. 

One hand rested in his pocket, fingering the necklace he had given and stolen back again. He hated himself for that. He really wanted Rogue to have it; it did look good on her. Besides, he got the sneaking suspicion that he truly was beginning to fall for her. He snorted to himself. ~Good start, LeBeau.~. 

His other hand brought a French-fry to his mouth. He had just arrived that day and he didn't even have time to get showered or eat properly. He had destroyed the files that very afternoon and Sebas would be here any second for the necklace. So he hadn't had time to dine and he was too hungry to wait until after the one-way exchange. Frankly, Remy didn't mind not eating in a nice restaurant. He was fine eating those French-fries with mayonnaise and ketchup out of plastic, on a bench on the street. Sometimes, you have to put class beside you and just enjoy the simple junk foods of life.

A figure appeared from the crowd and sat down next to Remy. 

''Remy.'' He gave a polite nod.

''Sebas.'' Remy gave him a curt handshake. 

''You haf it?'' Remy sighed. Sebas was never one for casual chat, he always went straight to the core issue. Were Thieves the only ones who knew about style and flair?

''Oui, I got it.'' Remy handed the necklace over. ''When can I get it back?''

''Back?''

''It be mine. I'd like it back.'' Remy said almost undignified.  

Sebas wanted to argue, to tell him it was impossible, but the sparkle behind those sunglasses made him remember the persuasive powers of Remy LeBeau, Prince of of the New Orleans Guild of Thieves and most definitely mutant. He weighed his options and answered cautiously. ''I'll call you when you can get it. But you'll haf to wait at least six to twelf monts. Det's when I'm out o dere. After det, you steal back anything you want.'' 

''Not stealin'.'' Remy clarified. ''Returnin' t' de proper owner.''

Sebas shrugged ''Watever.''

''See you around.''

''Yeah, bye.'' They shook hands again and Sebas left and disappeared in the crowd of people. 

Remy sat back on his bench. Well, that's it. Rogue would certainly kill him now. Especially if she knew what he had done. He remembered telling her he hadn't stolen it. ~Well, I didn' really. Was merely a shift in owner.~ He almost believed it. ~Face it, LeBeau, y'r a thief  an' a liar.~  Yeah, Remy LeBeau was not happy with himself right now. He took another French-fry. A familiar pinkish glow spread across it. ''Merde.''

-THE END-

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A/N Well, will you look at that; I finished. Don't cry, we all knew it had to come some day, right? 

Okay, this chapter and the previous one had some weird new developments and I recall mentioning Sabertooth in some of the earlier chapters as well as Remy having a wife. And of course he has a family and a reputation to be one of the best thieves in the world. Aren't you curious about these things? I am. So maybe I'll start a sort-of sequel. And it might feature some nice relatives...

Review and tell me a sequel is a good idea ;)

Thanks everyone for reading, enjoying and reviewing it.  

Fissie


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